


an old sad song (you heard it all before)

by constanted



Series: there's nothing we can't do (and when i say that i specifically mean that we're gonna stage a coup) [1]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: A Lighthearted Romp, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Gen, With Some Dramz As Well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-10-28 09:59:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 38
Words: 88,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10828953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/constanted/pseuds/constanted
Summary: “It needs three,” says the woman beside her.“Well,” says Julia, “There’s three of us right here.”(or: three women take the last job they'll ever need to take.)





	1. ADVENTURERS WANTED - GOOD PAY (Neverwinter)

**Author's Note:**

> so. um. let's explain, like, why on god's earth i'm making a multichapter fic.
> 
> i wanted to explore the whole role reversal concept in way that's kinda different than what i've been seeing, and, in working around that, i basically had to plan out ONE WHOLE EXTRA relic retrieval arc, among other things. so, the traditional tres horny gals have been a bit swapped around, there's maybe an extra ipre member or two, and a few backstories futzed with.
> 
> some notes:  
> 1\. endgame ships, for the concerned, are lucretia/lup, taako/kravitz, magnus/julia, killian/carey, hurley/sloane, MAYBE davenport/merle, and hekuba/happiness.  
> 1a. but this isn't a shippy fic, so to speak, because i mostly want to explore Characterization And Plot, cha feel.  
> 1b. but also there's gonna be some smoochin, cuz, like, c'mon. gotta have that.
> 
> 2\. i rolled character sheets for our three leading ladies, and i am rolling in real time for a lot of this fic, because it's more fun that way. i rolled a surprising amount of good rolls this chapter, for example. anyways, as far as race and classes go-- lup is a high elf evocation wizard, as in canon. julia is an aasimar arcane trickster (who will eventually multiclass. i got plans, y'all). lucretia is a human warlock (under the old one, who retains their traits from taz:(k)nights canon), cuz i thought that would be fun and interesting and also i love warlocks.
> 
> 3\. hekuba + maureen + racing lesbians will HAVE MAJOR ROLES and LIVE and WHAT HAVE YOU. pretty much everything is swapped around, save, like, a few npcs whose characters make their arcs work, and also, fucking angus because he is a constant, and i put a lot of thought into the changes that i made. patience and faith, folks.
> 
> 4\. my major complaint for a lot of roleswaps (WHICH I ALSO LOVE!) is that they maintain the characterization of thb for the main trio. i'm trying to Not Do That, so while there are obviously similarities between, per se, taako and lup and magnus and julia, there are differences too, so, like. yeah. whatever
> 
> 5\. i love you.

They meet in a bar. It's one of the shadier, cheaper bars in Neverwinter, but it's got a list for freelance jobs, and it's got okay mead, so she's there. She’s been doing some solo merc work lately—item retrieval, standard fare, pretty boring, but she needs the money. A gnome who she knows is named Craig walks in with a flier, and she jumps up, instinctively. And two women, about her age, walk up to see the new listing as soon as it goes up, just like she does.

“It needs three,” says the human woman beside her—dark-skinned, white-haired despite apparent youth, and willowy. She’s elegant, in a way that Julia can’t quite find words to articulate—that’s never been her strength.

“Well,” says Julia, “There’s three of us right here.”

“I don’t know you fools from fuckin’ fantasy Adam,” says the high elf, who might be just about the most striking woman Julia has seen in her entire life, wielding an umbrella in one hand and a bright orange drink Julia knows for sure isn't served here in the other. 

“Julia Waxmen,” she says, to the elf, “Rogue-type.”

“My name is Lucretia,” says the human woman, after a pause, “I—I work in the arcane arts. I dabble in them, I mean—“

“What’s your class, though?” the elf raises an eyebrow.

“I—I don’t see why that’s important.”

“I’m Lup, Evocation star, thanks. Now tell me yours.”

“Warlock, then, if you insist,” Lucretia rolls her eyes, “Some people are a bit judgmental of that, so—“

“Ooh,” says Julia, “I get it.”

“We meet with the employer here tomorrow at seven PM,” says Lup, squinting at the parchment, “Cover for me if I’m late, kay? We should say we’ve worked together before, I think that’ll make us seem  like we’re reliable.”

“So, we’re friends now,” says Julia.

“Coworkers,” says Lup as Lucretia says, “Associates.”

“Either of you got a room I can crash in?” asks Julia as Lup turns around, “I’m just about outta cash, gonna be kicked out of the inn. I can sleep on the floor—“

“I have an apartment in town, says Lucretia, whose voice changes from the monotone she’s been using to something a bit softer, kinder, “It’s messy, but there’s a couch, and .”

“Yeah, no room. Crash with that one,” says Lup, and she tosses her umbrella over her shoulder, “See ya at seven.”  
  
A smug smile, and an exit.

Lucretia’s apartment is more than messy. Julia can’t complain—she was far worse, back when she had a home, but there are papers, most of which are covered in nothing more than scribbles, strewn across the floor, and robes thrown across tables, and a host of other messes everywhere. Unwashed dishes, dried-up ink puddles on the floor, some burns on the walls from spell practice gone wrong.

“Sorry,” says Lucretia.

“It’s fine, dude.”

“It’s not.”

She seems ashamed.

It’s awkward. Lucretia isn’t much for starting conversations, it seems. She shuffles around, wades into what might, under the seventeen or so layers of parchment, be a kitchen, and sits down in the one clear chair in the whole apartment.

“So… warlocking. How’d you get into that?”

“Dream communication,” she says, blandly.

“Cool, cool.”

“And rogue work?”

“It makes me money, and I’m smart as hell, so, makes sense.”

“I was expecting a tragic backstory.”

“You’ll get that later. You got one?”

She pauses, purses her lips, says, “I like to think of myself as a curator of tragic backstories, rather than the haver of one.”

She crashes on the couch.

Seven PM tomorrow comes around fast. Lup is on time, which relieves Julia.

Gundren Rockseeker, their employer, a sturdy looking dwarf decked out in armor, tells them that this is the last job they’ll ever have to take, which is a pretty damn good deal, in Julia’s book. He’s going to Phandalin with two bodymen—a fighter and a bard with some particularly good healing, but he needs some folks to transport his shit on the side. 

“So watching your belongings is going to bring us great riches?” Lucretia says, “Mr. Rockseeker, I find that hard to believe.”  


“Well, this is only the first step—a job interview, let’s say, but I pay those who help me well,” says Rockseeker, “Kravitz and Burnsides can testify. They’re meeting me here after you leave, if you need proof.”

Lucretia says she’s staying to talk to the bard and the fighter, but hands Julia a key and says she can head back.

“No,” she says, “I’m curious. Also, I don’t need a key to get into your place.”

“I’m a bit uncomfortable hearing that, but okay. Lup, you heading out?”

“Nah, I wanna meet these fools. I’ve been scammed. uh, _quite_ a few times, would prefer not to have that happen again.”  
“Fair.”

The bard and the fighter are plenty charming, though complete opposites in disposition—the fighter is cheery and excitable and sweet, the bard is a bit more broody, though he cracks jokes as well.

“How’s Gundren’s pay, my man?” Lup asks Burnsides, casually, stirring whatever fruity drink she has that Julia doesn’t think is sold here.

“Pretty fuckin’ good,” he responds, and then he looks at Julia, tilts his head, and says, “Do I know you from somewhere?”

She thinks for a moment, because it seems like it, but her brain fuzzes out when she tries to, so she says, “Doubt it.”

“Weird,” he says, and he takes a hearty sip of his drink.

“Yeah,” says Lup, and then, “So, vis-a-vis payment, you’d say we can ge what we were promised?”

“Man’s loaded,” says Burnsides.

“He paid for my new lyre,” contributes Kravitz, “Just after meeting me. This is our second job with him. He really does care.”

“Also, he has a dog.”

“Nice,” says Julia.

“I’m allergic to dogs,” butts in Lucretia.  


“That’s tragic.”

They drink all night.

And then.

She wakes up on Lucretia’s couch, completely hungover, and the feathers on her shoulders are bent out of shape, which is a pain. She smooths them, and begins preparing. Straps on armor from her bag, ties her hair back, throws her sword over her shoulder, and stretches.

Lup, for some reason, is there, lounging on the arm of the couch, and, after getting hit in the nose by Julia’s arms, says, “I made you chucklefucks breakfast.”

“Coffee?” she manages to groan out.

“Of course.”

“Were you watching?”

“I respect privacy, Julie, I closed my eyes.”

“Okay, okay, whatever, cool.”

Lup tosses a berry into her own mouth, says, still chewing, “I’m not so hot with transmuting ingredients, used to be good, but I'm _way_ out of practice. Anyway. I did what I could do, re: breakfast.”

Lucretia emerges a moment later, hair out of its usual tight bun—it’s significantly larger than Julia imagined it being, and she says, clearly the most hungover or the three of them, “You stayed over?”

“Yeah, man. Pancakes?”

“Thank you.”

“Wait, Lup,  _pancakes?”_

“Look, they’re easy, I know it's lazy, or whatev—“

“No, I’m excited, I haven’t had anything _good_ in weeks.”

They meet up with Gundren and his people at noon, say their goodbyes to those three as they set off, get set up with the wagon, and they head on their way.

Julia’s got vehicle proficiency, so she drives, but they almost immediately run into a problem—fucking goblins. She draws her longsword, stops the wagon, and jumps out, but Lucretia cuts in front of her, says, “Let me try—“

She’s cut off by an arrow that lands right by her feet.

“I was going to—Never mind that, then.”

She fires a beam of shapes at the goblin that had attempted to shoot her, and smiles plainly as they fall down bloodied.

“Is it breathing?” asks Lup, behind the both of them.

“Not for very long,” says Julia, who rushes at them with her sword and stabs them.

“Dude,” says Lup, walking up to the two of them, “You just _killed a guy._ ”

“In fairness,” says Lucretia, “They did attack first.”

“Yeah, but like, you _killed a guy._ ”

Another goblin almost hits Lup. As he rushes towards them, Julia hits him, and he stumbles, a bit.

“You gonna hit him back, Lup?”

“Fuckin’—“  She casts a spell Julia recognizes as Fire Bolt, which, rough memories, but she's cool, she's cool, and knocks him dead. Lup says, “You happy?”

“He tried to kill you.”

“He did, and I killed him, but like, that’s a life! He might have had a family.”

“A family who attacks travelers unprovoked!”

“Yeah, but—“

Lucretia interrupts them.

“Do you see that, ahead?”

“What do you—“

“There are dead horses, ahead of us.”

“Are you sure they’re not sleeping?”

“I've read that horses sleep standing up, Lup, and these ones also aren’t breathing, so, yes. I think they’re dead.”

“Shall we investigate?” Julia says.

“We shall,” says Lucretia, a bit teasingly.

“I _guess,_ ” says Lup, who Julia really should have asked about merc experience.

They do investigate. Julia is a bit confused by the details, but Lucretia fills her in.

“There are three sets of footprints,” says Lucretia, “Human or elf, human or elf, and dwarf.”

“Is it—“

“One would assume, what with the travel gear and the hot horse carcasses.”

“Horsefucker,” teases Lup.

“Okay, gross. And you understood what I meant,” Lucretia seems to emit a few tiny polygons from the back of her head.

And Julia gets a voice in her head, Lucretia’s, and hears, _I think there’s another goblin approaching us. One of you, get back in the cart so we can—_

An arrow hits a horse corpse.

“Shitty aim,” says Lup, who casts another Fire Bolt. Julia winces.

“Easier the more ya do it, huh?” she teases, centering herself.

“Fuck off, Jules.”  
  
The nickname stings, for a moment, for some reason, but she shrugs it off.

“A map,” says Lucretia, “Wave Echo Cave.”

“You think it’s Gundren’s?”

“I saw his handwriting in the tavern last night, and he definitely at least annotated this map.”

“So.”

“So.”

“So!” says Julia, “We gotta follow it.”

“We could.”

“We will,” says Lup, “Knew I couldn’t trust the bastard.”

“Yeah, man.”

“His cohorts seemed to trust him.”

“His cohorts also fuckin’ went with him. We’re going to the cave.”

“It’s, like, five miles from here. We should walk. The horse can’t get through the woods.”

“Any of you know Light? I don’t have darkvision.”

“I do,” she and Lup say simultaneously.

“Oh, yeah, aasimar, right?” says Lup, right after.  


“Yep,” she pops the p.

The trip takes longer than they expect—it’s definitely more than five miles, because it’s evening when they stop, but there’s the cave’s entrance, and there’s some stumps right outside of it, as marked on the map.

“We need sleep,” says Lucretia, with some level of authority in her voice, “We’re cave searching tomorrow.”  


“I can carve out some chairs real fast, I grew up in a workshop?”

She did. She doesn't remember much of her childhood--the details of it come out all blurry whenever she tries to remember anything, but she remembers that much.She remembers her father's shop, and the way his voice sounded when he taught her how to do everything he did, and she remembers being twenty-one when the shop burned down. She thinks she should stop reminiscing about the past and start working in the now.  


And she does, and they camp. None of them talk, really. Lup smokes, offers them nothing, Lucretia reads, and Julia doesn't really do anything at all.

Morning comes, and the three of them all look at each other, look at the cave entrance, and they seem to each have some level of wariness. They can’t see very far into it, but they can see a stream flowing into it, and they can hear nothing but their own breathing and the current. Julia can sense that this is more dangerous than any of the missions she’s been on lately, and she knows her friends—associates, not friends yet, she corrects—sense that too. This isn’t going to be easy, this isn’t going to be safe. She could easily turn around and go back to Neverwinter, take the first shitty job she can find and keep living like she has been.

But instead, Julia, as she is wont to do, rushes in.


	2. FANTASY DOGSPOTTING

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang explores a cave, makes some friends, and meets some dogs, among other, less adorable foes. 
> 
> Julia gets caught up in office politics. Lup does some pretty dope pyrotechnics. Lucretia hates every kind of small talk that isn't done telepathically.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, we continue, everybody.
> 
> so, uh, notes. what's up.
> 
> 1) thanks for the response to this! i love y'all so much, i'm glad you're liking this!  
> 2) updates will not generally come this fast, but i'd like to finish gerblins pretty quickly, just so we can get to the fun stuff vis-a-vis the roleswap element to this story. i've been fucking up a lot with remembering canon info already, so i'm waiting to see how this distorts. anywho. only two or three of the...many npcs mentioned in this chapter have been swapped around, and one of them was introduced way earlier than their canon counterpart! so that's fun.  
> 3) i plan to finish up gerblins in the next chapter, which'll be an adventure and a half. who's ready to see how badly these gals fuck up!  
> 4) our girls are currently at level three, just so i can, like, justify some foreshadowing i wanted to fit into this chapter. also. julia's character sheet for this fic needs to be nerfed so bad, but, like, i'm not gonna do that because i love her. my wonderful, op daughter. so good at flips and lying. god. i love her.  
> 5) enjoy!

Lucretia is detail-oriented, in her thinking. But for the absolute life of her, she cannot find a single thing of note in this cave.

Look—she tries to see something worth talking about in everything. That’s her nature. Walking in this cave is boring, exhausting, and probably, ultimately, not worth her time.

And then, a cavern with some light in it, thank the gods. The light from Lup's umbrella was good, but not great. Julia is examining the room all around, looking for some sign of life, Lup is leaning on her umbrella like a cane, and Lucretia?

Well, Lucretia's looking a wolf straight in the eyes.

She says, "Julia."

"Just a sec, 'Cretia--"

"Julia," a bit louder.  


"Wha-oh! Oh man. That was a shitty perception check, on my part. Um, I'm really good with animals, so--lemme try."

Julia squats down to the wolf's level, but stares at it domineeringly. Lucretia has hope, for a moment, but then, Julia says, "Hey, puppy," and tries to scratch its chin. Tries and succeeds to. The wolf whines. Lucretia notices a bulky chain.

"Whosa good girl," she says, and the wolf whines again.

"Dope," says Lup.

"We're keeping her."

"Oh, deffo."

"I'm allergic to dogs!" says Lucretia, louder than she intends to. She tries to keep her calm at all times--people like her more, that way, but won't try and force her into conversations, and keeping a clear, peaceful mind makes the Great Old One less antsy, so it's beneficial all around. But she's tired, and she's nervous, and not at all interested in this wolf, which did growl at her just moments ago, lest Lup and Julia forget.

"We have fuckin' fantasy Claratin”  


“It’s aggressive,” says Lucretia, “And it’s also rather… bound to these chains, here.” 

She shakes the chains for emphasis. Julia frowns, rather childishly, makes a gesture that Lucretia interprets as a rather resigned, “ _Fine_.”

They exit the cavern, and enter another cavern, when Lup points out, “There’s a bridge up there.”

“What?”

“Yeah, and there’s somebody on it.”

“Oh,” says Lucretia, as she squints.

A voice, in Goblin, shouts down, “Turn back, this ain’t a good spot for tourists.”

“What’d he say?” asks Lup.

Lucretia, without answering, responds, “We mean no harm.”

“You speak Goblin?” asks Julia.

“Wait,” says the bridge goblin, “You’re the folks who killed Terry—“

“Who?” says Lucretia, trying to restrain a lie, which, look, she’s lied before plenty, but she’s not necessarily good at it, “We’ve never killed anybody?”

The figure stands up, and cries, “Get ‘em!”

Julia manages to jump up onto a higher level of rocks, and Lup does as well, but Lucretia can’t manage it fast enough, and she’s swept back by a harsh wind. She crashes into a wall, which she knows’ll leave a few bruises, but she packed healing potions and she’ll live.

“Lucretia!” Julia, distant, yells, after a brief ruckus from above—probably a spell or two knocking out the goblins, this clan of which seems rather weak, “There’s another cavern up here, we’ll meet you in there!”  


And she runs, best as she can, ahead, climbs on the rocks that Julia and Lup had secured places on, and she finds her companions outside a small entrance.

Julia shushes her before she even makes a sound, points inside—she can smell smoke, and she can see a few goblins, as well as a two larger figures, one unmoving on the ground, and one kicking its legs, clearly otherwise restrained.

“You’re a rogue,” whispers Lup, “You’re stealthy—“

Julia has already crawled in there, and is scoping out the hideout, and Lup is playing with her own umbrella, tossing it around.

“So, Lucretia, what’s your deal?”

“What?”

“What makes you down for adventure, and all that shit?”

“I want money? I guess? I—I don’t really have solid footing in my life right now, so a quest is… fine. A good change of pace from trying to live off of commission money? And it’s not like I have many friends or—” she needs to stop talking. Lup helps, by cutting her off.

“Fair. You do art and shit?”

“Y-yes. I used to be a journalist, but I was. I was fired. Due to some. Um. Collision between the leading family of Neverwinter and myself that caused more of an uproar than the Oracle would like surrounding one of its employees."

“Dope, dope. The Sterlings are terrible anyways. What happened?”

She wants to divert this conversation from herself, just like her childhood therapist had always said made conversations a little bit easier. Everyone loves to talk about themselves, Lucretia, he had said.

“I mean—“

“Guys,” whispers Julia, peeking her head out. Lucretia exhales, “The bodymen are in there? Come check this shit out.”

Lup crawls through quietly, but Lucretia trips as she heads through, and the goblins notice. So does the bard Gundren hired.

“ _What_ are you three doing here?” asks the bard, Something (she hadn’t bothered with remembering his first name, it suited him less than his surname, in her opinion) Kravitz, half-elf, looking absolutely exhausted.

“Where’s Gundren?” Julia fires back.

“I don’t know! We got attacked and he abandoned us—said he needed to get something! Can you untie me?”

A goblin coughs.

“Hail and well met,” says Lup, awkwardly.

“This your rescue party?” the goblin asks Kravitz.

“Yes,” says Julia, unconvincingly, “We’re a _rescue party_.”

“Yes, absolutely. They’re very dangerous."

“Look, ladies,” says the goblin, “These fellas were causing us trouble, and word of mouth says you’re causing us trouble too. I’d like to offer you a deal.”

Lucretia sighs, perhaps more audibly than she’d like to.

“Lay it on me,” says Lup. Lucretia knows that Julia and Kravitz are staring at her as well.

“I need you,” says the goblin, “To dispose of our _employer._ Fella’s a Bugbear, named Klaarg.”

“By dispose, you mean….”

“He means kill,” contributes Kravitz, unhelpfully.

Lup gets out an “ _Ugh,”_ and then a, “And what do we get?”

“These two, and your lives.”

“You want us to kill a dude because of office politics?” asks Julia, “Can you explain what the issue is, or—“

“I don’t see why it’s relevant.”

“I think,” says Lucretia, “That the three of us would like to have an idea of _why_ we’re doing what we’re doing.”

“You’re doing it to get these two freed.”

“Yeah, but, is this Bugbear, like… evil?”

“Morality is subjective,” says the goblin.

“Frankly—” begins Lucretia, about to give some long-winded speech in opposition to that point, but she stops herself because it’s off-topic. She tends to go on tangents and get distracted, but she can’t  stand to be in this cavern for any longer.

“Kill him, or I’ll kill them and you,” says the goblin, “Deal?”  


“Deal,” says Julia, surely, before Lucretia can say anything.

They walk out of the cavern, given directions by the goblin, and begin trekking through the cave.

“I thought that the bodymen’d be useful,” Julia says when they’re out of earshot, “Plus, we can lie about killing him if he’s chill. I got charisma oozing out of me.”

“That’s… debatable,” says Lucretia, quietly, and Lup laughs a big, hearty laugh, elbows Lucretia in the stomach.

“So you _can_ make jokes!”

“Aw, fuck you, ‘Cretia,” but Julia’s laughing.

“It really wasn’t funny at all.”

“Nah, but it takes away your enigma-hood.”

“Well,” says Lucretia, and she waits a beat, “Fuck.”

Their talk—one of the more comfortable ones she’s had with these two—is interrupted when Lucretia feels something large and humanoid land on her back.

“Are you here for the [REDACTED]?”

They’re Dragonborn, and they’re latched onto Lucretia’s shoulders, peering over to stare her dead in the eyes. Static seems to pour out of their mouth, rather than words, at the end of her question.

“I have _no idea_ what you’re talking about,” says Julia, “Who’re you?”

“Name’s Carey. Are you here for the [REDACTED]?”

“You’re statickin’,” says Lup.

“Oh—oh my gods, shit, um.”

“Where did you even come from?” says Lucretia.

“The ceiling.”

“Can you kindly get off of my shoulders?”

“Oh. Yeah,” says Carey, and she jumps off of Lucretia’s back, landing on the ground almost silently.

She’s small, as far as Dragonborns go, and her scales are bright blue. She’s in a dark, sleek bodysuit with an overlarge flannel on top of it, and on her left wrist, there’s a sturdy, silver bracer of some sort, with a pattern Lucretia can’t quite focus on. She’s cute. But she also is speaking in static rather than any language Lucretia knows, and, look, Lucretia knows a _lot_ of languages. So she’s maybe a bit dangerous, as well. And she’s not really Lucretia’ type at all. But that’s besides the point. 

“Pleased to meet you,” says Julia, in a tone that Lucretia cannot decipher any presence of or lack of genuine pleasure to meet Carey, “We’re looking for a Bugbear, you think that might have anything to do with your weirdass static thing?”

“It might? I’m looking for an orc dude, but there are probably some connections, cha feel? Trust no one and all that.”

“But you trust us?”

“Yeah, bad move, my man.”

“Y’all have no idea what I’m talking about, so, uh, yeah.”

“We could be lying?”

“I’m good at readin’ folks. Let’s find your Bugbear, find my. Item. That I’m looking for. And the dude who might have it.”  
“Hell yeah,” says Julia.

So they let Carey join them, for some reason. Lucretia isn’t quite sure why. She thinks Carey is fun and probably a bit more skilled than the three of them, but she’s not quite sure if the woman they’ve welcomed into their group is trustworthy. So she shoots Julia and Lup a message, thinks, _Do you trust her? At all?  
_

_Yeah,_ responds Julia, _Also, please send a warning or something when you do this._

And Lup adds, _I don’t really get what the fuck she’s talking about, so, uh, yeah, not really trusting her, but she’s also pretty fuckin’ good at whatever the hell she does, so. I’ll keep her._

_I’m with Lup,_ she says, _Do any of you know of any—truth spells?_

_Nah,_ they both say at the same time.

So they carry on, Carey chatting absentmindedly with Julia while Lup and Lucretia follow behind them. 

“Your telepathy’s fun,” says Lup, casually, as they head down a straightaway.

“Benefit of warlocking.”

“And I put so much _effort_ into wizardry,” pouts Lup, “When I can get the same deal _plus_ telepathy.”

“Why’d you go into wizardry?” her voice goes up to an uncomfortable octave, trying once again to change the subject.

“Um.”

“Tough subject?”

“No, I—I just. Uh. I learned it as a kid. I was kinda… displaced, a lot? Grew up alone, on caravans and shit, had to earn my place.”

“Lucretia doesn’t have a tragic backstory,” says Julia with some snark.

“Yours is actually just that you’re a giant nerd.”

Lucretia’s face heats up. Lup smiles at her, tilts her head. Lup has an excellent smile, Lucretia thinks.

And then, she thinks, _focus_.

_On what?_ responds Lup.

She quickly says, _Didn’t mean to share that!_

And Lucretia, in that moment, hates herself. But she starts walking a bit faster.

And then, there’s a baritone voice shouting from a chamber before them.

“I think this is our guy,” Julia offers.

“Yeah, no shit.”

“So,” says Carey, “Are we gonna sneak in, cuz I got that down, like, one hundo percent—“

“I was thinking intimidation,” offers Lup, “I got Prestidigitation—“

“So do kindergarteners,” Lucretia says.

“Oh, so do you have a better idea than shooting fire out of my fucking hands? Because in my experience, that isn’t always a super calming sight.”

“I’m not… opposing your idea, I’m just saying that he’ll probably recognize Prestidigitation as Prestidigitation.”

“Whatever, it’ll look dope, I’m doing it.”

“Can we just go in?”

“Let’s go,” says Lucretia, nodding.

The four of them enter the chamber, and are greeted by a wolf, running straight at them. Julia jumps in front of all of them and manages to avoid getting bitten. The wolf runs the other way, and the same baritone voice from before sounds

“You _dare_ bring flame—“

“Oh, fuck off.”

“Told you.”

Lucretia has never seen a Bugbear, but the name didn’t exactly bring _this_ to mind. He’s six and a half feet tall, maybe more, incredibly muscle-bound and furry. 

Julia has walked over to the wolf, probably trying to befriend it again. Lucretia notices a fire pit by the area the wolf is standing by.

_Kill it if you can’t get it to like you,_ she thinks.

Julia snaps back, _Please warn me when you do this!_

Nevertheless, Julia manages to calm the wolf down, and she gives it a gentle pet on the head before she walks back over to the group.   


The Bugbear turns to them, and says, “Who are you lot?”

“We’re hear to talk—“  
There are two goblins next to him, and they draw bows.

“We’re here for diplomatic purposes,” says Lucretia, “We’re from HR.”

She casts Illusory Script on a piece of paper in her pocket, subtly puts _LUCRETIA OLATUNJI - HUMAN RESOURCES_ on it. She draws it out, and flashes it, as if it’s a business card.

He seems to believe her, and she exhales in relief.

“It seems that some goblins in the area,” says Lucretia, “Uh, one of whom was named Terry, I believe, have had some complaints about your—your work as the new manager, here.”  


“Klaarg is no mere manager!” he bellows.

“Oh, I’m very sorry, Klaarg, sir, I—We’re from an outside firm.”

“Your Klaarg-ness,” says Julia, sweetly, “We just need to talk out your behavior—unfortunately, the—the big guys, up at corporate? They feel your treatment warrants expulsion. We don’t want that.”

“Oh, no, no, we absolutely do not want that,” says Lup, “Can—can the two of you, goblin-fellas, uh, leave us alone?”

“Klaarg demands that you leave!” says Klaarg.

“Okay, guys? I’m gonna do something real fast, cuz I think it’ll help? I only got two spell slots, like, total, because Rogue-stuff, but, like, I feel this is a warranted use of one.”

Julia does a hand motion, and then, Klaarg’s eyes soften. He’s charmed, that much is evident.

“Klaarg,” says Julia, “We just need some information from you, ‘kay? I’m Julia, these here are my friends, Lucretia and Lup, and this is our associate Carey.”

“Oh, well, it’s very nice to meet you—do you want some tea?”

“You got iced?” asks Carey.

“Sweetened or unsweetened?”

“Fantasy Arnold Palmer, if you got that.”

“We have fifty-nine minutes of this, Care,” scolds Julia.

“And I’m gonna fuckin’ hydrate.”

“Look, Klaarg,” says Lucretia, “One of your employees, I didn’t catch his name, has some companions of ours held captive, and we’d really, really, like to get them back.”

“The fighter and the bard that were with Rockseeker?”

“Yes, absolutely, so you know Gundren!”

“He’s with the Rubyman right now, in the mines, I dropped him off with—“

“The Rubyman?”

“That’s my guy,” says Carey, “Folks _love_ to pic up dumbass nicknames when they go evil.”

“Okay, Klaarg, dearest, thanks for the tea, uh, we’d best be going now, and I really, really—I need you to fake your death.”

“What?”

“I need you, Klaarg, to fake your death. That cool?”

Klaarg hands Carey a glass of her iced tea, and says, “Okay!”  


And they leave in peace.

“What the fuck,” says Lup.  


“Charisma, Lup!”

They retrieve the bodymen, and Lup brings out some smelling salts to wake up Burnsides.

“We’re going to Phandolin,” says Lup, “This is Carey, she’s chill.”

“I got shit with the kidnapper of your employer.”

“Aw, nice,” says Burnsides.

They navigate out of the cave, and cram into the wagon, which Julia begins to drive

“So,” says Lucretia, “What do you know about Gundren that we don’t?”

“He and his cousins found this—this lost mine. In Phandolin,” says Kravitz, “He didn’t tell us why he had to go in there, but we got ambushed, and he got taken in by Klaarg, saying he could handle it, and he told Klaarg that we could be killed, for all he cared.”

“Maybe my third worst bodyguard job ever?”  
“Tell me about it,” says Julia.

“We—we need Gundren’s blood, or his family’s blood, to get into the mines,” says Kravitz, “If that’s our intention.

“I got a cousin of his’ blood,” says Carey, “Got friends in high places.”

“So you knew—“

“I know a lot of things.”

They chat idly and make half-baked plans throughout the ride to Phandolin, and park outside of an inn. They get a few hours’ rest, un-notable, and they set out to the cave, as directed by the bodymen and Carey.

And then they’re there.

And the cave is absolutely beautiful, stalagmites everywhere. The walls are bioluminescent, almost, to the point where she doesn’t need anyone to cast Light so as to see properly.  


The beauty is, of course, a bit marred by the dwarven corpse in the middle of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love y'all! please talk to me about these girls!
> 
> my tumblr is @yahooanswer, for those interested. byeeeee.


	3. FIRE DRILL

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their party having expanded, our heroes venture further into the cave, and encounter a shitty HR guy, a bunch of gold, and a town in crisis.
> 
> Lup finds a hat. Julia reflects on some rough memories. Lucretia rushes in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> um, so, END GERBLINS ARC, i guess. this arc was really rushed, just cuz i wanna get to the fun stuff asap, and i think y'all do too. i rolled 8 ones in this chapter, and also 8 nat20s, so. oh god, oh geez oh man.
> 
> 1) combat is really messed up in this fic because i'd rather focus on plot than just fightin' and stuff. sorry. also, uh, i'm lazy. nice.  
> 2) my erythromelagia is flaring up today which gives us two fun facts: 1. this is even less proofread than normal chapters because typing hurts like hell, and 2. i keep making jokes about the gauntlet re: fire hands, and laughing. so that's fun.  
> 3) i killed off some boyz in this chapter. so, uh, warning for implied character death and also a dude literally getting his throat slit.  
> 4) I Love Carey.

Okay, so here’s what Lup’s got going on, like, mentally.

She hates dead bodies, she hates that they’re, as a group, wrapped up in this fresh bullshit, and she hates how much she wants to steal this dead guy’s magic shoes.

“I’m gonna take ‘em,” she says.  


“He looks… a lot like my friend,” says Carey.  


“Looks a lot like Gundren.”  


“Yeah, this is one of his brothers,” says Burnsides, “They all got claim to shit in here.”  


“I’m gonna take his shoes,” she repeats, “They’re good for jumping over shit with?”  


“Bit disrespectful of the dead,” says Kravitz.  


“Yeah, but they’re fuckin’ good boots, and I could use the jumpin’ boost.”  


“Go wild, I guess,” says Kravitz.  


“Folks,” says Julia, “We have to—we have to scale this pit, I think. Any takers for going first?”

Burnsides jumps down, because of course he does. Carey and Kravitz follow, Carey falling significantly more gracefully than the rest.

“Okay, who wants to go first on _this_ team? I’m down—“  


“Then go,” says Lucretia, “I’ll use this pickaxe—“  


“Where’d you find that?”  


“On the ground? There’s mining supplies.”

“Oh. Julia, do a flip on your way down.”

She succeeds, judging by the excited “Holy shit,” Lup can hear from the bottom of the pit.

“Flip a coin for who goes next?” Lup offers, “I got tails.”

Lucretia nods.

It’s tails. Of course it is.

She opens up her staff, and she jumps, and she prays for the best.

And she does it fucking perfectly.

She lands in Julia’s arms and jumps out, does a little bow.

“Very nice,” says Julia, applauding a bit.  


“Thanks, dude.”

Lucretia scales down the pit with some difficulty, ripping a hole into the left knee of her pants as she lands, but she’s safe, which gives Lup some sense of relief. She tries, really, desperately tries not to give a shit about anyone, ever, because it’s more dangerous that way, and she’ll get hurt, and all that shit, but hey, she’s emotional. She’s got a lot of love in her heart. She’s very, very bad at not caring.

“We got a map of the cave,” says Burnsides, “But it’s—“  


“Gimme,” says Carey, and she pours a vial of blood onto it.  


“Gross,” says Lup at the same time as Kravitz.  


“See, now it’s—it’s got a pathway lined out for us. Needs Rockseeker blood.”  
  
They eventually, after some bickering and some dead ends and some threats to split up, wander into a chamber with a spring below it, and the chamber is full of mushrooms.

Lup stares at them for a second—in cooking jobs, she’s gotten pretty good with plant identification, but the can’t place what they are.

“What are _these_?” verbalizes Kravitz. A cloud of spores hits him in the face, and he says, “Ow,” only to be hit in the face with more.  


“You good, dude?” asks Julia. The mushrooms, once again, spray up spores. Julia sniffles, shakes her head, “That didn’t hurt at all.” Another spray, another sniffle.  


“Krav’s a baby,” says Burnsides, and then, “Holy shit!” 

He cringes, after that one.

“I think,” says Lucretia, “They react to noise.”

As if on cue, Lucretia jumps in pain.

“Can’t you do your telepathy thing?” asks Lup, and then, she’s hit by a shocking amount of pain.

Then, Lucretia voice rings in her head says, _Smart move._

_Smart of you to figure out the mushrooms so fast, Lucy._

_Not a fan of that one,_ responds Lucretia, _but thank you._

And then, something else happens.

There’s an elevator a few yards ahead, but before Lup can process that, Julia and Carey begin to run towards it—Julia grabbing her hand, as well as Lucretia’s. Lup readies a spell, unsure where to aim.

“Up there,” whispers Julia.

She casts Scorching Ray, and two of the rays hit the blob, making it fall to the ground. Julia, who noticeably tensed upon seeing the spell, Lup notices, breaks off from her hand-holding zone, and runs at it with a sword, Burnsides doing the same with an axe, when Lucretia says, “Wait!” and then, “Ow.”  


Lup hears in her head, _If you slash it, we’ll get more of them, it’ll—_

_What am I gonna do,_ says Burnsides, _Hit it with an arrow?_

_Spell slots,_ says Julia.

_The arrow would actually be practical. One moment,_ says Lucretia, and she fires a blast of brightly colored shapes at the blob, which, again, recoils, _Cantrip._

Carey has managed to jump on the back of the blob, and is punching it thoroughly. It begins to drip away from itself, revealing a dwarves form, and as it oozes away, a man looking remarkably like Gundren Rockseeker lies dead on the ground.

Still fearing the fungus, no one says a word.

Lup, Carey, Julia, and Burnsides make a dive for his pockets simultaneously, and, after some glaring and coughing, split the dwarf’s gold among the three of them, eighty pieces for each of them. Lup also takes a key, which she assumes is for the elevator. It suddenly occurs to her that she might have just killed this dwarf, but she rationalizes, no, dwarves don’t turn into blobs.

They enter and exit the elevator, and find themselves by the spring from earlier.

Kravitz is filling up a canteen with spring water, despite not helping during the fight _at all,_ says, “It has healing properties.”  
Lup grabs the canteen from his hands, chugs some of it, throws it to Lucretia, who takes a sip, throws it to Julia, and so on, and so forth.

They enter a door, and enter a longs stretch of the mine, and Lup gets ready to break this awkward fucking silence. 

“So where are you guys from?” asks Julia, before Lup can invite a more interesting conversation prompt into the mix. Everyone answers, mumbling, but Carey cuts them off, says, “I have literally heard of none of these places, what the _fuck_ are you guys talking about.”  


“They’re—they’re all real,” says Lucretia.  


“Okay, whatever, I didn’t really give a shit about geography, but we got maps up at the [REDACTED] and I was lookin’ at one recently for this mission, and I haven’t seen any of them.”  


“Static,” says Julia. Burnisdes looks at her oddly, as if he doesn't understand her confusion.  


“Shit.”  


“Well, the Roost doesn’t really—exist, anymore,” says Julia, losing her generally sunny disposition, for just a moment, “But that’s besides the point.”  


“That’s how I know you! You’re the revolution girl!” says Burnsides, oblivious.  


“Um.”

Lup decides, this needs to end, and she says, “Look, none of us are enjoying this convo.”  


“No,” says Lucretia.  


“You got a solution for that, dude?” asks Carey.  


“Nah.”

So they walk silently, interrupted only by Burnsides making a few bad jokes about mines.

And then, a noise.

There’s a door, and Lup runs through it, having noticed it first, followed by the rest of the party. Inside, she sees a metric shitton of rubies, an orc in sensible slacks with a long, long ponytail, and the unconscious form, of course, of Gundren Fucking Rockseeker.

“Sup,” says Carey, seeing the orc.  


“Carey, nice to see you!”  


“I have a few HR complaints,” she pauses, clearly having been thinking about this zinger for a while, “Uh—betrayal, for one?”  


“Bad delivery,” says Burnsides.  


“Gotta side with him on this one,” says Lup, because it kinda sucked.  


“Look,” says Lucretia, “We’re here—and by we, I mean myself, and the—the non-Carey members of our party—we’re here for Gundren. If we could secure him, uh, non-violently, that would be great.”  


“Super great,” says Julia.  


“The absolute greatest,” Lup contributes, “Care-bear, want another shot at a one-liner?”  


“Nah, I—I only came up with the one.”  


“Oh, of course you can have Gundren back! I just, uh—I need a little bit more of his blood? Y’know, just because—it’s pretty—I need blood, okay?”  


“Brad,” says Carey, “Look. You can’t have this fucker’s blood. I’m after, uh, both of you? Because you want the [REDACTED]. “  


“Can one of you—can one of you explain the fucking static?” asks Lup, frustrated, “Cuz I want in on whatever you got goin’ on—“  


“Oh,” says the Rubyman, Brad From HR or whatever, “That’s easy. You can’t hear us because the [REDACTED] erased [REDACTED] from everyone, and you gotta work for the [REDACTED] and get [REDACTED] to understand [REDACTED]—“  


“They didn’t get jack shit of that, Brad.”  


“Oh.”

"I-," says Burnisdes, "I got that, I--"

“Look,” says Carey, “We’re not gonna get Gundren back if we don’t get Brad outta the picture. I gotta get Gundren too, but I can wait till y’all get what you need from him, cuz you seem chill. So, uh, I’m gonna—“

She lunges behind Brad and holds a knife to his throat.

“Why don’t you ever do cool shit like that?” Lup asks Julia, teasing.  


“Whatever,” says Julia, who jumps on a table covered in rubies and casts Mage Hand. Lup doesn’t notice until after the fact that the clipboard, mug, and harp that had been on Brad’s belt were now in Julia’s arms, as are eighty gold pieces. Burnsides is digging through his own pockets, desperately.

“So we’re gonna do this violently?” Lup sighs. Lucretia has already readied her staff.  


“He’s gonna hurt people,” says Carey, “He has access to a—a thing, that’ll, uh, kill a bunch of folks.”  


“What kind of thing?” asks Lup, looking for an excuse.  


“A—it’ll static.”

“Oh,” she casts Fire Bolt right at him, lighting the clipboard in Julia’s hands on fire as it passes her. She jumps, more panicked than a Fire Bolt should make any ally of Lup’s, loses her focus, and her Mage Hand fades.

Brad From HR cringes in pain, and Carey slashes his throat, he makes a noise to signify that he’s in pain.

“He’s almost down. Anyone got a one-liner?” asks Carey, “HR, rubies, bards, all good topics. Dude you’re runnin’ real low on health.”

Brad From HR mumbles a bit.

“Easy to make fun of too,” says Burnsides, and Kravitz steps on his foot.  


Kravitz says, “Look, Magnus—we’d best head back.”

“It’s just getting exciting!”

“That’s my issue. You know we’re a—we’re a package deal, in this line of work. I don’t get gigs, my friend. I need you to come to safety.”

“We can handle Gundren,” says Lucretia.

“Can I at least get a one liner?”

“You didn’t help!” says Lup, “Anyways, uh, report _this shit,”_ says says, as she sees Lucretia readying a shape-blast-thing.

It hits, and Carey throws Brad over a ledge. Burnsides and Kravitz say their thank you and exit.

“See you in Phandolin,” says Kravitz.

So it’s four of them, and Gundren’s unconscious form. Lucretia, blank faced, slaps him.

“What the fuck—?“

“Gundren. We’re here to rescue you. Get the fuck up.”

“And I’ll be accompanying you, Rockseeker—you’re doin’ some shady shit,” says Carey, “Gotta keep my eyes on you.”

They exit into a chamber.

Lucretia points into the corner, says, “Um.”

Written on the wall, there is a message, and under the message, there is a oddly comfortable looking wizard hat, and a bright red jacket.

The message says, in Elvish.

_LUP,_

_WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU? THE GLOVE IS HERE, BUT YOU’RE NOT, LULU._

_FIND ME._

There’s another line, but it’s blurry when she stares at it.

“That’s your name,” says Julia.  


“Is it your—jacket?” says Carey, “Cuz if so, that shit—“

“I’ve never seen either of those in my _life._ And nobody fuckin’—nobody but my aunt’s ever called me Lulu, cuz—and I liked it, back when I was a kid, but—”

“So your aunt?”

“Is dead.”

“And the glove—?”

“Never heard of it.”

“That’s what—what Gundren’s lookin’ for. Right, bud?”

“I’ve heard of a glove,” says Gundren, noncommittal.

Lup is out of it. She stares at the words, which make no sense. She walks towards it, and she picks up the hat, which, while a bit dusty, looks just fine. She places it on her head, and throws the jacket in her bag.

“Might as well,” she says, absentminded, to no one.  
Julia asks, “Hey, uh—what does it say? I see your name, but—I only speak Common, Celestial, and Dwarven.”

“It’s—it doesn’t mean anything,” says Lup.  


“O—okay?”

“Let’s get a move on, fuck-os.”

And they exit.

“You ladies deserve some answers.”  


“You bet your ass we do,” says Julia.  


“Look—when the orcs stormed Phandolin, the dirty—“

“Say another word and I will stab the fuck out of you,” says Carey, “Racist motherfucker.”

“The Rockseeker clan hid all of their weapons—all of their magical supplies in this vault. It’s attuned to my blood. There’s—there’s something I want, in there.”

He touches the door in front of him, and Lup sees the most gold she’s ever seen in her life, with a dead man on top of it, and the dead man is burnt all over, wearing a silver gauntlet, and something about this feels so _familiar,_ but she can’t place it.

Gundren walks up, and Carey tries to stop him, but she’s not fast enough. He puts on the gauntlet, and is immediately engulfed in flame. Julia says, “No—“  


And Gundren, alive, not even scorched, runs out of the room, and out of the cave.

“This is bad,” says Carey, and she begins running, through a door, to an exit—the cave’s a fucking circle, Lup realizes.  


“The wagon’s close,” she says, and when they find it, Julia jumps in the driver’s seat, needing to get there faster, and starts going. Trees are burnt to stumps, everything—everything is ablaze.

Julia goes faster. Lup braces herself.

Some scavengers stop them. They have a boy with them, a tiny orc boy—maybe a teenager. Julia stops the wagon, to Carey’s loud chagrin, and jumps out, sword in hand. Lup follows her, readying a Fire Bolt.

“Oh hey, some chicks, yo, hey! Slow your roll! Slow your roll, pard’ner! Uh, we’re just - we’re just pickin’ the bones of this scene, we didn’t do any of this, we promise. We’re just tryin’ to - four honest, y’know, fools tryin’ to make a buck, tryin’ to turn a buck in this hard, cold world. Certainly y’all can sympathize with that.”  


“What the fuck are you doing?” asks Julia.  


“We’re just tryin’ to make some money—this boy’s gonna—“

“No.”

Julia casts Mage Hand, unlocking the door for the orc boy.

He rolls his eyes.

“I’ll give you fucks,” says Lup, “A count of three. Three, two—“  


“Zero, motherfucker.”

The orc boy runs off, and Julia takes this as a cue to jump back into the wagon, yells, “Get the fuck in here!” Lup climbs on, hardly secure, and they take off.  


And they avoid this fight pretty damn well.

Phandolin, when they arrive, is burning.

Julia doesn’t move. Lucretia jumps out instead, and casts a spell Lup knows but has never used—Expeditious Retreat—to run into the town. Lup runs in behind her, desperate to stop this.

“Gundren!” she yells. She spots Burnsides and Kravitz, alongside a scared looking halfling woman, arguing with something bright, and she assumes it’s the dwarf—  


“This isn’t you!” says Burnsides, “You don’t have to kill all of these innocent people!”  


“This town doesn’t deserve this—“ Lup yells over Gundren’s mumbling response.  


“Your family would be ashamed of you,” says Kravitz.

And he flickers out.

“Kill ‘em with cruelty,” says Kravitz, “Shame’s a good motivator, yeah?”  


“Sure,” says Lucretia, and then, “Gundren, give me the glove.”

He moves to take it off of his hand, when something hits him on the back of his head, and there’s the orc boy.

Gundren turns into flame again. 

“Run,” says Burnsides, “Both of you—“  


“I can’t leave everyone here!” Lup shouts, they’re _innocent people_.

Lucretia grabs her hand, and she tries to pull away, but she can’t. The halfling woman is with them. She's safe. One of them, from this town, is safe.

And Phandolin burns as she watches, and Julia who’s still outside the wagon, doesn’t say a word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) anyways, phandolin might not have burned down had julia fucking... not got a nat20 on a sleight of hand roll when breaking kurtze out. i wanted to explore that plot thread, but some parts of this story are beyond me, i guess.  
> 2) Where In The World Is Taako Taaco?  
> 3) noelle is a gunslinger in this fic, fuck you.  
> 4) see you fuckers on the moon.


	4. WE ARE LIVING IN A MATERIAL WORLD, OR, MORE ACCURATELY, A MATERIAL MOON, AND I AM A MATERIAL GIRL

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The girls land on the moon, meet some cool folks, and are asked where they see themselves in five years time. They also buy some shit!
> 
> Julia makes a new friend. Lucretia seeks the truth. Lup watches her language.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> waddup im jared im 19 and i never learned how to focus while at work or while studying so instead i wrote another chapter of this. it's dialogue-heavy and pretty much 100% exposition, but, hey, it's a chapter, so
> 
> 1\. there are a lot of differences to the bureau itself in this fic that are not explained in this chapter. that's more of a gradual thing, to be revealed as we go along, i think?  
> 2\. merle and hekuba were never married in this au, just fyi. also, we meet merle and hekuba in this chapter! i hope that's cool.  
> 3\. shoutout to julia who failed literally every roll she made this chapter.  
> 4\. shoutout to lup for getting two nat20s in this chapter.  
> 5\. shoutout to the college board for not giving me extra time on my exam this thursday despite my chronic pain issues hurting my writing! i just needed to write that out, bear with me here.  
> 6\. i'm figuring out how to write these ladies as i go, and boy howdy, they're tough. tell me what to do better, or if i'm doing okay, or literally anything.

The halfling woman is shaking, and Carey puts a hand on her back.    


“Noelle,” she croaks out, eventually, twangy, and no one else says a word. 

Carey, after a while, says, “We fucked that one up.”

“We got your glove,” Lup holds it out.

“You hold it, it—it wants me to use it. Is it not?”

“I said no.”

Lup shoves it in her bag.

Lucretia pats Julia on the back, and Julia seems to flash back awake. The blaze is dying down. Phandolin is, to the eyes, just a circle of 

“Look, I don’t—I don’t usually do this, but y’all—Lup, you’re handling a [REDACTED], you all helped me big time, and—Noelle, you need somewhere to stay, and I get—vibes from you. Good ones.”

She presses the silver thing on her wrist, and, after a brief wait, a glass sphere falls from the sky. A balloon pops out, and Carey shows them in.

Carey mutters something, half static, into her Stone of Far-Speech, ending it with, “Yeah, love you, Kill. Tell the [REDACTED] I got new recruits.”

There are two moons in the sky. The sphere approaches one of them, lower in the sky, and they enter the moon.

Or, more accurately, they enter a dome inside of the moon. Carey taps glass, and the hole through which they entered the glass sphere opens. A sad-looking half elf in blue-and-black military garb stares at Carey, says, “You brought guests.”

“Yo, Hann—“

“I—I told you not to do that,” without energy, “It’s—it’s not even funny—“

“Sure, whatever. Uh, Lup, Lucretia, Julia, Noelle, this is Johann. He—he runs departures and arrivals here.”

“I also write music,” says Johann, “I don’t—don’t reduce me to my job, I’m a multidimensional figure—“

“He also writes music,” a roll of the eyes.

“They’re probably out of it—“

“Yeah, I bet they fuckin’ are, they just saw a whole fuckin’ town burn down and secured a [REDACTED].”

“No, I mean because of the [REDACTED].”

“Oh.”

“What town?”

“Phandolin.”

“Shit, Avi’s got family there.”

“Well, uh, I’m not delivering that news—“

“I will,” says Julia, breaking in, “Who’s Avi?”

“Let’s—Johann, can you take these folks to Avi, get ‘em—y’know. I gotta talk to—“

“Yeah, I guess.”

Johann walks them down a hall, and through a few dome shaped areas, and says, at the opening to an elevator, “Uh, Avi’s down here. I’m gonna be frank with you—”

“I thought your name was Johann?” asks Lup, and she gets a high-five from Julia.

“Are you coming?” asks Lucretia.

“Nah, I gotta make sure—I gotta make sure nobody else comes,” and he sulks off.  


“Okay,” says Julia, “Okay, okay, okay.”

She looks more lively than she didan hour prior—filing away the experience in the back of her mind, to dwell on later. They walk through a gate, and past some guards, who say, “Initiates,” as if justifying the women’s presence to themselves.

A young tiefling man, presumably Avi, is sitting down on the ground of the next room, tinkering with something next to a large, dark tank full of some liquid. He bends over a paper, sketches something on it, and returns to tinkering.

“Avi?” asks Julia.

“You the new initiates?” he asks, “Killian told me about you—Carey told her.”

“Uh, yeah, I’m Julia, this is—this is Lup, and Lucretia, the three of us are—we’re buds, I think? I think it’s fair to call you my buds.”

“I wouldn’t go so far as to say buds,” says Lucretia. Lup shrugs.

“Sure, whatever, and this is Noelle, she—uh, she’s along for the ride.”

“Hello.”

“Sup,” says Avi, “Uh, I’m Avi, I’m a engineer, here—I’m a fuckin’ good one, too, I—I’m really good at it. Like, really, really good. And I’m also our animal handler?”

“You moon people pressed for staff?” asks Lup

“Uh, no—it’ll make sense in a sec. Here,” he hands her a vial of the liquid from the tank, and says, “I spiked it. It’s less nasty like that.”

“What is it?”

“Uh, it’ll help, is all I can say that’ll make sense? Wait—“  
  
He shows them the sketch he was working on. It’s a blueprint for something, some kind of device that functions like a slingshot, but more mechanical and—and firey, so to speak.

He throws the blueprint into the tank.

And none of them can place what he had just showed them.

“Okay, drink up.”  


Julia drinks it first, grabbing it, and she goes blank for a second. 

She immediately remembers the blueprint, and she remembers more and more than that. Being asked if she was looking for the Phoenix Fire Gauntlet, about the Bureau of Balance, and about its Captain. She remembers a war that, destroyed entire towns. She lost friends.

She doesn’t remember the particulars, but she remembers it.

Lucretia goes next, and then Lup. Noelle takes a small sip, a bit nervous.

There’s a jellyfish in the tank.

“Makes sense, yeah?” 

Julia runs up to the jellyfish, and says, “Did we just drink this thing’s shit?”

“No, it’s—it’s like, an ichor, I guess is the right word?”

“It’s beautiful,” she says, because she is absolutely enamored with it.

“Uh,” he picks up his stone, says, “I’ll send those three up,” and then, “Uh—Lupita, Luc, Julie—“

“Got ‘em in one,” says Lup.

“Fuck. Uh, you three, head up the elevator, Noelle, you’re interviewing with—with me, I guess.”

“Can I come down here and chill with the fish sometimes?” Julia asks.

“Yeah, uh, I can probably get you clear for that. And you can babysit when I’m busy, and I got, like, weights and shit down here, so we can work out and—“

“Hell yeah.”

“Uh, you three have to go meet the Captain, he’ll—uh, he’ll set you up with your interviews.”

“You inoculated us into your… group… _before_ the interview?”

“You would be really confused if we didn’t?”

And so, they head up.

A gnomish man, nervous-looking and mustachioed, greets them as they exit the elevator, and leads them to central dome—a long walk, relatively, and he says, “I normally do a physical challenge, for new recruits, but you—you secured a relic.”  
“Yes.”

He picks up a staff designed for someone who is not a gnome.

“I am—I am the Captain of the moonbase, here. Uh,” he pauses, and says, “Can I—have the gauntlet, so as to—destroy it.”

“We’re destroying it?” asks Lup.

He pauses, looks above her eyes, “Oh, uh. Yes. They were created by, uh—dark wizards, these relics—there’s eight of them, this is—this is the first one we’ve… secured. Dark wizards, in—in red robes, we call them Red Robes—they created these to hurt people, they went mad with power. No one I’ve met,” he says, “Has been able to resist their—their pull. Thrall.”

“I said no,” says Lup.

“I’m very proud of you,” he says, “You’re Lup, the, uh—the wizard?”

“Yeah.”

“And Julia, the rogue, and, uh, Lucretia. The writer.”

“Warlock, if we’re keeping in tune with the previous descriptions, but—but yes.”

“I’ve read your articles—“

“I’m freelance, I—I ghostwrite, usually.”

“You’re very gifted,” his eyes shift over to his desk, “I’m sorry, I’m very—this is a big day, for the Bureau, it’s not every day that we—again, this is the first relic we’ve secured.”

“I get it. So, interviews?” says Julia.

“Yes, uh, Julia, you’ll be going with my—my top assistant, Merle Highchurch. Lup, you’ll be with our Head of Mainland Relations—that’s Hekuba Roughridge. And Lucretia—you’re with me.”

Two dwarves, one of whom—Merle, he introduces himself as—looks remarkably similar to Gundren Rockseeker. 

They exit.

—

Julia’s interview goes like this:

“You’re casting Zone of Truth?”

“It’s just to make sure that—“

“So you’re a cleric, or a bard—“

“Cleric.”

“That’s interesting. Who’s your god? My father, he was a worshipper of the Raven Queen, so I’m—I’m pretty familiar with clericism.”

“But you ended up a rogue.”

“Gotta survive. Who’s your god?”

“That’s… personal.”

“It’s your job to spread the good word, yeah?”

“You’re nosy.”

“I’m curious! C’mon, I won’t tell.”

“Well—there’s definitely _a_ god looking out for me, considering I can use spells, and shit—they usually fail, but that’s sort of a—that’s a me thing, not a god thing. There was an—incident, I still don’t remember all the details of it—and now, I—I can’t remember who my god is.”

“Oh. That’s rough, I’m sorry, man.”

“Nah, it’s fine, I still live a pretty good life. Look, I’m gonna be honest with you. We know you’re gonna—you’re gonna get this job.”

“Yeah.”

“But protocol.”

“That’s boring.”

“Full name?”

“Julia Vail Waxmen.”

“Parents?”

“Dead.”

“I mean their names.”

“Oh, uh, Steven Waxmen and Vail.”

“Just Vail?”

“Aasimar naming tradition where she’s from.”

“You have two aasimar parents, or just your mother?”

“Just my mother.”

“You don’t look very much like a—traditional aasimar.”

“You’ve never met one.”

“I haven’t, but I’ve seen portraits.”

“I got my dad’s genes. Are you related to the Rockseeker clan?”

“I am—I have more questions—“

“No, I’m just—your family’s Phandolin based?”

“No, distant—distant cousins. I was raised pretty secluded, I don’t know much about our clan's politics, but, uh—they’re not close.”

“Okay, okay.”

“Good god, you’re fuckin’ nosy.”

“I like to get to know people!”

“I’ll write that down in the goddamn fun facts section of this paperwork. Where do you see yourself in five years?”

“Dead in a ditch, probably.”

“That’s a fun… smile, with that.”

“It’s just likely. I’m cool with it.”

“Alrighty. How would your friends describe you? Three words.”

“Fast. Uh. I can’t come up with any more, I got a—a nebulous sense of self.”

“Keep going.”

“What’re your three words, then? Give me some inspo.”

“Really? Handsome—don’t fuckin’ laugh, I’m _rugged—_ charming, and brilliant.”

“Sure.”

“Words, please.”

“Fast, friendly, fuckin’ nosy. Three ‘fs.”

“I called you fuckin’ nosy.”

“I like to think of us as friends, Merle.”

“Ah, shit.”

—

Lup’s interview goes like this:

“You want some tea?”

“You cast a truth spell, just now?”

“I did, it’s—it’s protocol.”

“Sure, whatever, it failed on me, though.”

“Can we—can we lie, about that, then?”

“Who’s the kid in the picture?”

“That’s my—my only daughter. Mavis. She’s my genius. Lives on base with me, you’ll see her around at some point, probably.”

“Sure.”

“You want some tea? I have chamomile, Earl Grey, oolong.”

“I've had a really bad day.”

“I’m aware. Would you like some tea? I also have coffee, if that’s more your deal.”

“Do--it's weird to have a whole city blow up like that, y'know?”

“Strange, yes. Tea?”

“I don’t like tea.”

“So. Logistics. Your name is Lup Taaco, you’re a high elf, you’re a wizard.”

“Evocation wizard.”

“Sorry, _evocation_ wizard.”

“There we go.”

“You have any hobbies?”

“Cooking. Uh, lighting shit on fire.”

“Don’t swear in my office, please.”

“Lighting crap on fire?”

“Much better.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Okay, sweetheart, how do you feel about traveling?”

“What?”

“Taking this job would mean you’d have to travel all around Faerun, so—“

“Who says I’m taking this job?”

“The Captain, myself, Carey, the whole shabang. You’re already inoculated, and who knows what you’d do with that information? We pay well, here, and we have shelter and food, which, from what I have in your file, here—quick background search, nothin’ too serious—those aren’t exactly constants for you and your friends.”

“You mean Lucretia and Julia? I hardly know ‘em.”

“You looked pretty stuck together.”

“Cuz we just saw some weird shit together.”

“Ahem.”

“Stuff. Fuck! Wait. Look—it’s impulsive at this point.”

“I’m glad Zone of Truth failed, then. Look, Lup, you’re—you’re, from what Carey says, very good at what you do.”

“Yeah, I am.”  


“We think we could use you here at the Bureau. Just let me ask you a few more easy questions.”

—

Lucretia’s interview goes like this.

“What of mine have you read?”

“Just some of your articles for the Neverwinter Herald, and some of your independent pamphlets—the Sterling exposé was… enlightening, Lucretia, absolutely _delightful_ reading. I’ve never been much of a fan of nonfiction, but your writing is _riveting!_ ”

“I’m flattered.”

“Why are you a writer, Lucretia?”

“You’re hiring me for an adventuring job. Because Lup and I handled a relic, and I believe Julia can as well. I don’t see why my other job is relevant, Captain.”

“I’m curious.”

“I think that there are a lot of stories worth telling that otherwise won’t get told. The Sterling exposé was only a pamphlet because no newspaper would take it. I thought people deserved to know. It’s simple.”

“That’s honorable. So you consider yourself a do-gooder?”

“I’m not quite sure of that—a conduit for doing good, maybe.”

“Interesting. Do you want to do good?”

“Absolutely.”

“And how do you—how do you envision goodness, Lucretia?”

“You’re a lot more composed, when it’s just us.”

“I’ve had a long day. And, I wrote out these questions in advance, Lucretia, because, frankly, I’ve been meaning to hire you for some time now.”

“I consider goodness to be searching for the truth. That’s what’s right, yes? To find the center of every wrongdoing. You’re carrying yourself very seriously.”

“I try to maintain a certain stature. Folks that look like me aren’t taken very seriously.”

“I can empathize.”

“Lucretia, would you like to save the world with us?”

— 

They’re fitted with bracers like Carey’s, and welcomed on as reclaimers.They have a dorm room, which they’ll be sharing with Noelle, who’s Carey has invited onto her own team of regulators.

They’re also paid pretty damn well for their retrieval of the gauntlet, in spite of what happened in Phandolin. And, some tokens, which they’re to redeem from a fantasy gashapon machine, from a man named Leon.

And Lucretia gets an ear clasp that apparently helps her understand the intentions of others, Lup gets a ring that defends her from frost.

“Fitting,” says Lucretia, and Lup smiles at her, elbows her.

Julia walks up next, and tosses her token towards the machine, and it lands on the ground.

“Pick it up,” says Leon.

Lazily, she casts Mage Hand and puts it into the slot.

“I’m not quite sure that’s allowed—“  


“Shh,” she says, “I’m gonna get my prize.”

And a giant axe drops out.

“Dope,” she says.

They buy some shit from a creepy-ass catfolk-type at the on-site Fantasy Costco—a glove that’ll apparently make punches stronger, which Julia and Lup agree to flip a coin over eventually, a wand which swaps places between two people, which Lucretia claims for herself before Lup can even look at it, and a mechanical beetle called the Scuttle Buddy, which is for the three of them combined.

And so begins their time at the Bureau.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anywho. train time is next! it's time to meet That Boy, and also, unfortunately, be a bit mean but ultimately loving to the aforementioned boy. (the extra relic retrieval arc is happening after pttm, i think, but we'll see.)  
> i kept the gashapon rolls the same because, like, what else am i to do. let julia have an axe, goddamnit.
> 
> i don't think davenport is necessarily as good of a liar as lucretia is in canon, and he seems a lot more... idk, like, into running shit like he's used to running it. so, job interviews! mainland relations! the bureau in this is a lot more scientifically-focused than the canon one, which i think i'll speak more about during crystal kingdom.
> 
> comments sustain me.  
> tumblr is @yahooanswer.


	5. METHOD ACTING

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After getting their sweet new gig, the girls are assigned their very first mission, and it's gonna require some batshit charisma rolls.
> 
> Julia makes amends with an old friend. Lup workshops a character voice. Lucretia is all about improv, baby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys. this chapter was about 90% dictated, and edited very quickly, because the ap exam fucking made all of my chronic pain 80 times worse, which, fuckin' cool, i guess.
> 
> so! notes!
> 
> 1\. it's train time! we'll get to ango and co. next chapter. for now, tom bodett, and some original characters do not steal.  
> 2\. fake. dating. au. that's your preview hint this chapter.  
> 3\. i'm so glad these girls have good charisma. i'm also so glad that, with all the charisma rolls the rockport arc's gonna involve in this au, that we're bound for at least two of them to get crit failures and ruin everything.  
> 4\. hekuba is these ladies' mom now, and neither they nor she can control that.

They get a week to settle in before the Captain calls them into his office for a chat. Julia’s out of their dorm when it happens, up training with Carey and Carey’s super chill girlfriend, but apparently, Lucretia and Lup were still asleep. (Did Lup even need to sleep? She remembers that her high elf friend from when she was a kid, Taran, only ever needed to meditate.)

“We’ve gotten word of another relic,” he says the Captain, gravely.

Lup groans, “And you couldn’t have waited  _two hours?”_

He ignores her goes on, “We’d tracked down—the relic, the Oculus,” he sighs, for a moment, “To a woman named Elaine Sandsoff, a—a mysterious rich recluse. She and her partner, an even  _more_  reclusive woman named Mira Last Name Unknown—”

“That’s her legal last name,” adds Hekuba, who’s standing by the Captain, “She got it changed.”

“Baller,” says Lup, and Lucretia says, “Holy shit,” writing  _INTENTIONALLY MAKE SELF MYSTERIOUS — LEGAL NAME CHANGE?_ on her hand with white ink, clear enough so that Julia can see it.

“They were planning to board the Rockport Limited, a commercial train through the teeth and to Neverwinter, with one of Miss Last Name Redacted’s bodyguards, and with the relic in hand. They got their luggage loaded on the train, and were, well, subsequently murdered.”

“The Rockport Slayer,” says Hekuba, grinning, “I love a good mystery.”

“You know that’s all fake, right?”

“Oh, come on, Highchurch, who else could it be?”

“I’m just sayin’, there’s no—there’s never any evidence of one Rockport Slayer. I got a theory that—“

“Can I  _brief the Reclaimers_? Both of you have jobs that I pay you for?”

“We’ll discuss later,” says Hekuba, and she shuffles out, “Girls, I have some supplies for you when your briefing’s done. Find my office.”

Merle waddles out through a different door, and they’re down to four.

“How terrible was the passion they were killed in?”

“Three people died,” says Lup, “And that’s your question, Julia?”

“It was pretty gruesome,” says the Captain, “Really, deeply, upsetting.”

“Who’s the Rockport Slayer?”

“Lucretia, I’d assume you’d know—“

“I’ve been a bit out of touch lately.”

“I actually worked a mission for somebody whose husband was killed by ‘em,” says Julia, nodding, “There’s been a huge surge in murders—and Rockport’s, like, thirty percent the same dude in various different spots, so. That’s top theory vis-à-vis identity of the killed, ‘cuz, kill your double, like the old proverbs say, but—“

“But the Tom Bodett population doesn’t have magic—I was a personal chef once upon a time for one of ‘em—“

“You’re a personal chef?”

“I can cook really fuckin’ well!”

“You ate her pancakes, Cretia, she  _is_  pretty fuckin’ good. Yeah, they don’t use magic and three of the murders were committed with Mage Hand.”

The Captain sighs says, “In short, we need the three of you to pretend to be Sandsoff, her partner, and their bodyguard, take the train, retrieve the relic, and bring it back here.”

“What’s the relic do?”

“It’s—it’s illusion based, like the gauntlet was evocation based. It’s able to turn anything created with illusion magic into something real, which—obviously, that’s not so safe or beneficial to, well, anyone.”

“Cool, cool,” says Julia.

“So,” says Lucretia, “Who’s playing who?”

“I’m bodyguard,” says Julia, “I’m the closest thing we got to a tank, so.”

“I’ll be the mysterious lover, I got some characters I’ve been workshopping—“

“So that leaves me as the rich woman?”

“I guess.”

“Hekuba has carryons and fancyass costumes for the three of you.”

“Nice.”

And Hekuba does, and she says, “Don’t change just yet, the cannon isn’t—Rockport’s surrounded by swamp.”

“Why can’t we take you or Merle with us?”

“Cuz we’re administrative. Not our departments. And he’s incompetent.”

“I just feel it would be best if we had—if we had a healer, or something,” says Lucretia, “And you’re a cleric.”

“I don’t do missions, I got Mavis, and I like my job as is. Not a huge fan of risking life and limb.”

“And Merle?”

“Like I said, incompetent,” she sits down in her chair, larger than she is, upholstered and blue, “Be safe out there. Don’t get Rockport Slayered.”

“We don’t plan to,” says Lucretia, and she smiles gently.

Johann is plucking at a fiddle when the three of them approach the hangar, sounding out a song, and it takes him a few minutes to notice them. Julia doesn’t mind, it’s a good song. She taps her foot gently to go along with the beat.

“Oh,” he says, and she starts clapping. Lup joins her, and Lucretia smiles again.   


“Fire us away, cannonboy!” says Lup.

And he does. It's not a super fun experience, but Julia can deal with it. Maybe she'll drink beforehand, next time.

They land in a swamp.

“Fuck this,” says Lup, “Fuck—fuck this.”

“Not a grime fan?” asks Lucretia, almost completely monotonous.

“Not a grime fan or a fan of your attitude re: my opinions of grime.”

“Nor.”

“Unimportant.”

"We’re sinking, you two, if you—I can try and punch through the glass?”

And she does, and it shatters. She’s got gloves on, but her upper arm gets a few scratches.

“Nice hit, Julie,” says Lup, jumping through the hole in front of them, perching herself on a rock.

Lucretia follows a bit more carefully, and lands on the rock as well. There’s no room for Julia, who jumps onto a log, which sinks a bit.

And then an eyestalk pops out behind her.

And another.

And another.

And another.

And four giant leeches are staring at the three of them.

“Fuck,” says Lucretia, as unimpressed as ever—how does she keep her  _fucking_ voice like that, Julia wonders. Lucretia fires off what may as well be her favorite cantrip, hitting one leech with enough power to weaken it substantially. Julia goes next, taking her new axe and chopping straight through a tree, as if there were nothing there. The tree falls, and three of the leeches are hit, completely obliterating two of them.

“Okay, can I get some credit for how  _fucking cool of me that was.”_

“Absolutely.”

“Thanks, Cretia.”   


“I got this next one.”

Lup shoots a Fire Bolt (Julia needs to have a conversation with her about this, for gods’ sake, she can’t jump every single time she sees flame), at the one Lucretia had injured, and it’s effectively melting down into the water, dead.

She blows on the tip of her umbrella, which secretes a bit of smoke.

The last leech spits some yellow fluid at Lup, burning her a bit, and making her lose her balance. As she falls into the swamp, treading sludge nervously, the leech retreats, and Julia jumps in to help Lup out. Lucretia laughs, rolls her eyes.

They hop, eventually, to land, and walk through the woods into Rockport, about three miles away. Rockport’s not huge, but it’s a city on the rise, full of a lot of Tom Bodetts, and other folks, as well.

“I know a place where we can get changed up. Uh—maybe get into character?” Julia asks, bracing herself for her former employer’s greeting as she knocks on a door of a mansion in the front of town,

“Look, Promise and I—we didn’t necessarily part on good terms? So, just, be cool, I’m gonna get forgiveness, and y’all are gonna get dressed, and I’ll secure us some baths and some food before the  train leaves in,” she glances at a clock, “Three hours.”  


A tiefling woman opens the door, and tries to shut it, seeing Julia’s face.

“Wait!” she says, prying it open, “I’ve come to ask you for—for forgiveness, Miss Promise, uh, I have your locket!”

“ _You_  took my locket?”

“You only paid me half my rate, I thought it was only fair, but I got—I got steady employment, now, ma’am, bodyguarding for these two women—“

"Is she correct?” asks Promise.

Lucretia and Lup respond at the same time, “Yes,” Lup less sure-sounding than Lucretia.

“I can promise you,” continues Lucretia, “Miss Waxmen’s character is stellar.”

“Here’s your locket. Ma’am, we’ve been through some—through some significant toil, recently, and we need to freshen up, real fast. You’re the only person I know in town. Please, if not for me, then—for my—then for my friends.”

“Employers,” coughs Lup, in a bizarre accent.

“Sorry, employers. I like to consider those I work with—“

“You’re sweet,” says Lucretia, who, in an out of character move, grabs Julia’s shoulder and squeezes it reassuringly, “She’s reformed, ma’am. She’s begun to train in fighting matters, rather than roguish ones. She’s very impressive”

Promise shoots Julia a glare, grabs the locket, and ushers the three of them in.

“I’ll run you some baths.”  


Promise exits.

“Woman’s loaded.”

“What the  _fuck_ did you do to her?”

“I robbed her sister-in-law’s place when I was supposed to just grab one thing. It was a petty disagreement. I misunderstood.”

“You misunderstood to the point of—to the point of robbing a house?”

“I thought more shit equalled more reward, Lucretia.”

“Her name is  _Elaine,_  Julia.”

“Hey, hey, Lup? Lu? Just gonna—if you use that fucking character voice on the train, I will take this sword, the one that I have strapped to my belt, and I will fucking murder you with it, and then I’m the new Rockport Slayer.”

“Bit gruesome.”

“Julia? Julie? If you’re this much of a buzzkill on the train about my in-depth role-play sesh, where I play Elaine Sandsoff’s mysterious lover—“

“Now, he never said she was her  _lover._ ”

“No, we made the character choice that they’re lovers. I think it’s more convincing as to why we share bodyguards.”

“Thanks for the backup, Elaine, but Julie, If you’re gonna be this much of a buzzkill about my character choices, I will hit you with this umbrella, and it will fucking eat you. It can do that.”

“So you’re keeping the voice?”

“Yeah.”

“In that case, I get to choose a fake name for the train.”

“A train name. That’s normal.”

“A name for the train times.”

Promise shows them to her bathroom, and they bathe, and they get dressed in the fancyass clothes Hekuba made them bring. Julia’s are practical, but she’s unarmored, which isn’t super great for a fake bodyguard. Lup and Lucretia get fancier clothes, perhaps more suited to their characters. Look, Julia is fine with theatrics, she’s  _good_ at theatrics, but she also knows she’s gonna have a hard time keeping this masquerade running smoothly between the three of them.

“Okay, listen,” says Lup, back in her normal voice, for just a moment, “We gotta sell the hell outta this.”

“Yeah,” says Julia, “Gotta yes and everything.”

“It’s all jazz, baby,” says Lucretia, and then, “Improv.”

They exit Promise’s mansion, Julia grabbing back the locket, and approach a Tom Bodett at the ticket booth for the train station nearby.

“Hello,” says Lucretia, “I’m Elaine Sandsoff, I have three tickets ordered for the train to Neverwinter?”

“No you’re not. I—I helped Miss Sandsoff with her luggage load into our vault two days ago, and she—she was not you.”  
  
Julia casts Charm Person.

“No, she’s deffo Elaine Sandsoff,” says Julia, “I met you the other night! You’re Tom, right?”

“Yeah, that’s m’name.”

“Nice, nice. I’m Pinksedan—“

“Pinksedan.”

“Yes, darling, her name may be entirely ridiculous, but it’s what we have to  _go with, right now._”

Tom Bodett leads them into the train, says, “Uh, Pinksedan? Can you—we don’t really allow weapons on the train, so, uh, if you could put that axe and that sword and your other—valuables—in our vault, here.”   


Julia groans, but, after an encouraging push from Lup, places her weapons down, keeping a knife in her pocket until Lucretia makes glares at her and makes her remove it.

“Only a uh, Rockport Limited employee, uh, can open it, uh, with one hour of sustained physical contact. So it’s not like a, even if a robber somehow did manage to get onboard, or if somebody managed to pass our screening process, uh, and get onboard a train, uh, they-they are not going to be able to pop this thing open, they would need somebody who works here to do so, and they would need to stand there for, uh, an hour, which just simply would not happen!”

“That’s awfully tedious.”

“It’s a luxury train, we have to be careful.”

“But it’s bullshit.”

“Yeah,” says Tom Bodett, “It really is. I like you guys.”

“I like you too, Tom Bodett, and what I’ve done to you is not morally sound at  _all._ ”

“That’s okay.”

“It really isn’t,” says Julia, smiling uncomfortably, “Okay, bye Tom, love you, bye!”

Tom Bodett exits, and the three of them walk into their sleeper car.

“So, now we wait. Can't be that hard to wait, right?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. i don't know what lup's character voice is, but i'm picturing some horrible pseudo british/psuedo 1960-80s american actress with that one movie accent. you know the one. i can't remember what it's called.  
> 2\. julia is a really good rogue, and a good person, but she's also got a fukked up moral code, and that's fun.  
> 3\. i sustain off of kudos and comments and affection. hit that mf like, y'all!  
> 4\. yahooanswer on tumblo. find me.


	6. ENCYCLOPEDIA BROWN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The girls set off on their journey and meet some shady characters, and also visit a really nice garden! Too bad they're being interrogated about possibly being murderers while they visit it!
> 
> Julia meets some heroes of hers. Lup plays it up. Lucretia meets a kindred spirit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. ANGUS TIME  
> 2\. TIME FOR ANGUS  
> 3\. ANGUS MCDONALD, BOY DETECTIVE'S TIME TO SHINE  
> 4\. anyways. this chapter is 90% dialogue, which, cool, but i wanted to introduce angus + some rockport employees. we'll get some jess, ****, and juicy wizard content in the next chapter, i swear. i promise. the next chapter'll probably be EXTRA LONG because i'm gonna wrap up this arc in it! oh lord oh god oh geez.  
> 5\. anywho. enjoy. i drop some hints about ~future plotz~ in here for y'all too so enjoy

A well dressed elven man peeks in on them, says, “We’re about to go. I’ll need your tickets,” in a flat, deep voice. Julia hands them over, and Lucretia stares at the elf.

“Who might you be?” she asks.

"I’m your conductor, my name is Hudson.”

He has a mustache, well-kept, and he looks exhausted. Not the best for conducting, in her opinion.

“You must be Miss Sandsoff and her party, then?”

“What’s that to you?” asks Julia, gruff. She had complained about character voices, and now she was using one, which is, potentially, Peak Julia.

“We’re just so pleased to have a woman of your standing on our train. I hope it meets your standards.”

“It’s lovely, Hudson,” says Lucretia, because it is—it’s the height of luxury, everything gilded or velvet.

“Well, darling, I do wish we had a better sleeping car,” drawls Lup, “You know I can’t rest very well on trains.”

“It’s mid-afternoon,  _ma’am_ ,” says Julia.

“I was implying something  _else_ , Pinksedan.”

“We can entertain ourselves in other ways, my  _love,_ calm down.”

She can feel the Great Old One lingering behind her, probably exerting a few signals from her head.

_Just don’t say anything_ , she thinks to her teammates.

_You’re polygonning._

_ I’m aware. Julia, decide on a name that a normal person would have. You know, how normal people have normal names that are not Pinksedan. Use that on the other passengers. _

_We’re not talking to other passengers._

_Maybe they’ll know something about the Slayer—_

_We’re not solving the fucking Rockport Slayer Mystery_ , says Lup.

_I want to, though,_ she whines.

_Yeah, I kinda dig it, conceptually._

_Yeah, fair. Okay, so we’re mystery hunting as well, fuckin’. Sure. Cool. Fine._

“May I escort you ladies to the passenger car?”   


“That would be delightful,” says Lucretia, smiling as Lup and Julia pull themselves up behind her.

They enter the aforementioned car, and Hudson continues, “So, I will be in here,” and he points up, to what is presumably the engine care, “For the duration of the trip. Uh, I-I- I won’t be coming out as just a security measure.”

“I’d love to see how the train works,” Julia says, “As a security measure in case you die or something. I got vehicle proficiency.”

“That’s—that’s unnecessary. I didn’t catch your name, earli—“

“Josta.”

“Nice,” says Lup.

“Miss Josta, uh, we have—there are other train employees. You’re already aware of our rules on weapons—you’ve, all three of you, disposed of weapons?”

“My entire body is a weapon.”

“I’m keeping my umbrella, like, it’s got a bit of a pointy tip that I will definitely use like a fuckin’ bayonet at some point in the future, but it’s not a weapon—“

“Really, if you think about it, the greatest weapon of all is our words.”

“That’s all fine, I mean things like axes, or swords, or wands. Unless, Miss Josta, a—a witch kissed you, an axe, and turned you into a person.”

“Yeah, that’s me. Josta, the living axe.”

“That’s my favorite fantasy sitcom,” says Lup, still in her character voice.

“Yeah, it’s a good one.”

“Okay, I—I’m going to go and drive this train now.”

He walks into the engine compartment, and the door slams closed.

They walk into the passenger car, revealing four other passengers. A stout, muscular dwarven woman, glaring at the almost as-muscular aarakocra man next to her, a very fancy looking young human boy reading a book, and a human man with glasses and a large, bushy beach, wearing cheap, pink, faux-velvet robes.

“Okay, dibs on talking to  _ Jess the Fucking Beheader and Jeff Angel,  _ thanks, okay, goodbye,” says Julia, as they examine their fellow passengers.

“Who?”

“They’re Battlefest folks?”

“What?”

“Battlefest? Like—wrestling and fighting and dedicated character acting and blood?”

“Lucretia, have you never heard of Battlefest?”

“I was more of a Sizzle it Up fan, I didn’t really tune in—“

“What the fuck is that?”

“The transmutation cooking show? It played in Neverwinter pretty often until it ended.”

“Okay, cool, but—I call dibs on talking to the Battlefest people in this mystery sidequest.”

“I’ll take Weirdo Beardo, he’s got okay vibes.”

“Which leaves me with the child?”

“Yeah, it does.”

“I don’t—I don’t want to look creepy.”

“Be, like, his cool aunt figure or something. You’re a fuckin’ nerd, you like books, strike up a convo about—“

“Oh, hello, I don’t think we’ve met yet,” says a deep voice, cutting into their conversation.

It’s a tall, elven man, in a Rockport Limited uniform, with a rainbow bowtie to top it all off.

“Hello, we’re the Sandsoff party,” says Lup.

“Ah, yes,” he blinks, very slowly, “It’s my pleasure. My name is Jenkins.”

“I like your bowtie,” says Julia, with clear intent to steal it if Jenkins should wrong her.

“Thank you, it’s my flair. My own little personal touch.”

“Does it have—does it have magical qualities, or—“

“No, it’s just rather  _fun,_ ” he says, his voice wrapping around vowel sounds in the word “fun” that should generally not be there, “I’m a wizard attendant on this train.”

“Which means you cater to me and only me, then?” says Lup.

“No, no, you misunderstand—I’m a wizard and an attendant.”

“Get a grip, L-Mira,” says Lucretia, slipping in an attempt to be a little bit funny. Lup grabs Lucretia's hand,long fingernails scratching lightly, playfully, and Lucretia blushes.

“I’d love to show you ladies around the train, I provide a number of unique services—I can take you into our pleasure room—“

“Gonna stop you  _right there,_ dude, okay, what the fuck?"

“Ma’am, I—I am so sorry, my voice--"

“Makes everything you say like it’s about havin’ a good fuck, yeah, I get it--"

“There’s a—there's a child in here, Mira.”

“The pleasure room.”

“Can you—can you call it something else?”

“The illusion room?”

“Better.”

“The illusion room, it is not a sex thing-- uh, maybe it can be. Uh. It is actually a type of magic I specialize in, uh, called a port, and I can make it so that when you enter this chamber, you can be in any room, anywhere in the world that you want to be, uh, just a quick getaway.”

Lucretia has heard of ports, and she nods, impressed, despite the bad aura she gets from Jenkins. They’re hard to master. Before she gained a patron, she had planned to study wizardry, and she had considered illusion or abjuration as her field of choice. So, being herself, she had read up on everything she could surrounding those subjects.

“So you just use spell slots on that?”

“I do—“

“And you just carry people’s bags around? Cuz you can use magic for that too, man—“

“I—“

“Mira? Leave the man alone.”

“He’s wasting potential, darling,” Lup plunges back into her character voice full-hearted, making it somehow more ridiculous than before.

“I’m going to leave now.”

“It was nice meeting you!” says Julia, and, as he exits, “I don’t trust him. The butler always does the—the murder. He always is the murderer. You’ve read books.”

“Cool conversation opener, but, okay, relying on old literary tropes is definitely how we’re gonna find out who the killer is.”

“He was creepy.”

“So are most other men,” says Lucretia.

“That’s fair, but, like—he was really fuckin’ creepy.”

“And he carries bags instead of magicking them, which, dumbass move.”

“ _I_  carry my shit!” says Julia, and Lucretia nods along with her.

“Cuz you’re a dumbass. Less of one than him, but,” Lup adjusts her hat, casts Mage Hand to hold up her bag, “We can both do this. Whenever. And so can he. But he doesn’t!”

“That’s not justifying your case for him being a murderer.”

“I’m not with Julie re: his murderer status, I’m just sayin’, he doesn’t take full advantage of his abilities.”

“Mage Hand lasts for one minute.”

“Details,” Lup dismisses the hand and catches her bag as it falls, “Okay, interrogation time, lesgo.”

Lup approaches the human man first, sits awkwardly, stares ahead, and practically yells, “How thrilling it is to be on this train!” which is quite possibly the worst interrogation technique Lucretia has ever heard.

She shuffles to a seat near the young boy, who says, “Hello, ma’am!”

“Oh, hello.”

“What’s your name?”

“Oh, I—“ she hadn't expected him to be so inquisitive, “I’m Elaine Sandsoff, I’m a—I’m an artist. What’s yours?”

“My name’s Angus! I’m a little boy, I’m visiting my grandpa is Neverwinter! Have you ever been to Neverwinter?”

“I’m from there.”

Angus squints at her, and she examines him. He’s tall, as far as children go, but looks around nine or ten. He’s got skin that’s the same warm, brown tone as Julia’s, dark brown hair, and big, bright blue, round glasses, hardly held together in the middle with approximately one entire roll of yellow gaff tape. He’s dressed extremely well, though, in an expensive-looking pressed shirt and bowtie, with a neat, dark blue sweater on top. He’s about the fanciest boy Lucretia has ever seen.

“What are you reading?”

“Oh, nothing in particular! My favorite books are the  _Caleb Cleveland: Kid Cop_  series, though!”

“The—the ones about the cop that’s a kid?”

“I feel like the title implies that, but yes! Who’re your friends?”

“Oh, uh—the one squealing over the wrestlers over there—“ Julia turns and gives her a thumbs up, “Is my bodyguard, uh, Josta. And the elf over there is my—my partner, Mira.”

Angus looks at her again, scribbles something in the margins of his book, and perks up again, says “My full name’s Angus McDonald!”

“That’s a lovely last name.”

Angus McDonald rings a bell in her head.

“Thanks! It’s from my grandpa’s side.”

She’s not sure the implications of that, but she presses on “So, uh, Angus McDonald, why’d you start a conversation with a strange adult woman on this train?”

“I wanted to make friends on the train, I don’t have many friends at home.”

She frowns.

“I didn’t have many friends at your age either, Angus, I understand completely.”

“I have my grandpa, though!”

“What’s your grandpa’s name?”

“It’s unknowable, ma’am! That information was lost long before I was born. I call him grandpa.”

“Because he’s your grandpa.”

“Yeah! You took the words right out of my mouth.”

Julia slides over next to Lucretia, says, “Okay, Jess is cool as hell and I might be in love with her, but Jeff Angel? Total dick,” she looks at Angus, and says, “Oh! Shit! Sorry, kid. Hi, RC Josta, bodyguard extraordinaire. Pleasure to meet you,” she smiles, “God, I hope you’re not one of those nerdass kids that hates swearing—“

“No, you can curse in front of me! I’m Angus McDonald.”

“Oh, thank the gods.”

_Do you think a ten year-old could commit murder most foul?_ asks Lucretia,  _He loves crime stories._

_He’s a baby._

_Babies can kill people._

_He’s a baby, Lucretia._

“Miss Sandsoff, are you under the patronage of the Great Old One?”

“Oh.”

“You’re kinda polygonning right now, yeah. It’s a little bit obvious.”

“Yes, but, uh, keep it hush-hush.”

“Oh, I won’t tell anyone! I respect boundaries. Also, I don’t know anybody on this train!”

Lup struts over, says, “Well, that conversation was a fuckin’ bust.”

“This is Angus.”

“‘Sup,” says Lup.

“Okay, so now that I’ve got all three of you here, I have a question!”

“Shoot, pumpkin.”

“What are your real names?”

“You blew Charm Person on Tom Bodett?”

“I have it too,” says Lucretia.

“I have plus four Wisdom, ma’ams, I’m really hard to enchant!" the kid is fucking beaming, "What are your real names?”

“Okay, you’re eight, you can’t be that wise.”

“I’m ten.”

“Same difference.”

“Look, we should meet somewhere private, so I can interrogate you three, because you’re all pretty suspicious!”

“How about the illusion room?”  


“Yeah, uh—yo, Jenkins?”

As if teleported, Jenkins appears, and says, “Yes?”

“Ango here wants to go on an adventure, and, uh—he needs supervision. Can you take us, to, uh, a garden or something?”  


“A garden would be easy.”

And they enter a garden, with Jenkins’ assistance, and it’s beautiful.

Angus holds up his book, and says, “I intercepted this.”

It reads

Elaine Sandsoff and Co. not who they say they are STOP Charm Magic spell performed at the station STOP Hand over to authorities immediately upon arrival in Neverwinter STOP.

“So I want some info, uh, now.”

“Okay, tell me why you care?”

“I—I am the world’s greatest detective.”

“Cute,” says Julia, “I wanted to be a detective when I was your age.”

“No, I’m—I’m really a detective. I was hired by the Rockport Militia to track down the slayer, and you’re impersonating their most recent victims, so, uh.”

“We’re investigating the slayings as well, we just thought that whoever recognized our names would give away their status pretty fucking quickly.”

“The bodyguard’s name was actually RC Josta, I don’t know how you found that out, it was private—“

“I completely bullshitted it. Hey, Lup, who’s bad at names now? Who guessed—“

“So you’re Lup, and you two are…”

“I’m Julia, this is Lucretia. We’re not the Rockport Slayer.”

“Well,” says Angus, “That leaves five suspects.”

“How are you sure she’s not lying?”

“I’m good at reading people. World’s greatest detective.”

“Boy detective, or—“

“Age ain’t no thing, that’s—that’s my catchphrase! Now cut the horseshit,” he smiles, brace-faced, “What do you guys know?”

“Pretty much nothing. Can creepyass Jenkins hear in here, or?”

“Ports don’t work like that.”  


“Kay, cool. It’s really—it’s beautiful in here. Reminds me of the gardens back home.”

Julia looks down for a second, picking up some lavender, distracted. She remembers reading the name of Julia’s town somewhere, once, but not the context of it.

“Kid, let’s—let’s solve this in a few, okay? It’s nice in h—"

And then, they’re back in the train.

And there’s a body—Rockport Limited uniform, head and hands removed cleanly, and a rainbow bowtie, shimmering before them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. AND HIS NAME IS JOHN CENA  
> 2\. uh. my comedy podcast launches soon! just as a note for any of you who might care about my non-taz endeavors. i'll keep y'all updated here, just cuz i gotta get in that #selfpromo!  
> 3\. my tumblr is @yahooanswer  
> 4\. i love the response this fic is getting and i live for attention, so, hey, comment up! <3


	7. BEANS! (BEANS?) THE SPECIAL BEANS!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our girls are 100 percent on that mystery grind, and they solve it pretty dang easily, thanks to their new, if annoying, companion. And you know what that means: It's time for some hot fucking stunts. And it's also time to talk about feelings!
> 
> Lucretia remarks upon tropes. Julia punches a guy. Lup doesn't notice, 'cuz she's busy driving a train.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -lup rolled a nat20 on an attack this chapter, and she's fucking great.  
> -offscreen stunts!  
> -stunts nonetheless!  
> -jess speaks!  
> -backstory exposition!  
> -enjoy!

Julia reaches down for the bowtie, and Lup looks at her, looks at Lucretia and Angus, and then lunges down for it herself. She gets there faster than Julia, and shoves it in her bag. It’s a fucking amazing bowtie.

“Dude, I called dibs.”

“Not verbally!”

Angus is squatting down, examining the body for clues or whatever detectives do, Lup doesn’t know. That she’s on a train with a murderer is very upsetting, and that a dude she just talked to is dead is equally upsetting. But, like, it’s a fucking amazing bowtie.

“The beheading’s really clean, not the—not the behanding?”

“Julia, isn’t one of your wrestling people named The Beheader?”

“That’s obviously a red herring, Lucretia—it was clearly Jeff Angel! They  _hate_ each other on the field, and Jeff Angel’s image is so squeaky clean that nobody would ever suspect him. Haven’t you ever read a book?”

“I’ve  _written_ books, Julia, I know what a red herring is, it’s just—this isn’t a book, this is reality. I am all about—A big fan, personally—of finding story tropes in reality, but—red herrings don’t exist in real life.”

“A murderer would never be that obvious. None of the other Rockport Slayings have been beheadings!”

“That’s—that’s fair.”

“And red herrings do exist in real life!” chimes in Angus, who, despite being generally adorable, is a piece of shit in Lup’s mind. Not that she wasn’t a piece of shit at his age—or, elven equivalent to his age, she never got that quite right,

Lucretia has been keeping her cool up until this point in what’s ultimately a pointless argument, which is ridiculously impressive to Lup. Lup knows that she and Julia are both more—excitable, hotheaded, whatever adjective springs to mind—than Lucretia, but Lucretia’s chill is impressive as hell, and Lup envies it.

Well, Lucretia keeps her cool until a fucking fiery crab monster jumps out at them. It throws itself at Julia, who, unlike herself, freezes.

Fire bothers Julia. This much is clear. She won’t increase it further, and she casts Acid Arrow at the crab. and it hits really fucking well, thanks. She usually doesn’t do so well with non-firey shit, but, hey, she can branch out and succeed. She’s amazing, she thinks to herself.

The crab scuttles away from Julia, clearly worse for the wear.

“Ma’ams,” says Angus, “I’m gonna—I’m gonna run to the passenger car—“  
Julia snaps back to herself at that, “Angus, we have to protect you! You’re—you’re tiny, no offense!”

“I’m only four inches shorter than you! And the passenger car has two like—two really good fighters in it, even though I’m ninety percent sure one of them’s a serial killer, so—maybe we bring the crab in there?”

“It’s already bloodied,” says Lucretia, clearly nervous, “We can take it down without involving suspects. Angus do—do you know any magic?”

“No, but I’d love to learn someday, I’m really interested in Transmutatio—“

“Okay, okay,” Julia exhales, “Um. I’m gonna use a spell, right now, right here. Uh, that spell is. Witch Bolt.”   
  
She hits the crab with a bolt of lightning. Lup never bothered to learn that spell, though she probably should have, because it looks pretty fucking dope.

“I got one more spell slot, guys, and I don’t think that spell’s super useful to any situation at hand, so—“  


“Yeah, we’ll handle the magic from here, Julie.”

Lucretia conjures something that looks akin to Mage Hand, but significantly more skeletal, and grips the crab with it, and Angus pulls out a slingshot from his pocket.

“Did they not—confiscate that?” says Julia, “They took my sword.”

“I’m really good at hiding things, ma’am!”

The rock he shoots at the crab misses it, landing instead at Lup’s foot. She examines the rock, and slips it into her bag for later.

The dwarven Battlefest champion, Jess the Beheader rushes in through the door, and hits the crab with a battleaxe that appears out of nowhere, and the crab just dies then and there.

“It’s soul-bonded to her,” says Julia, to Lup and Lucretia and Angus, smiling wide, “I am one hundred percent in love with her.”

“So she has a weapon that can be used to behead people that wasn’t confiscated?” asks Lucretia.

“We could be in a two murderers-one train type situation,” Angus shrugs.

“What do you mean by two murderers?” asks Jess, the axe fading from her hands, “I heard a commotion, got—y’all got it down pretty dang good, though.”

“Thanks,” says Julia, preening, “Jenko was found beheaded on the ground here, and—“

“Yeah, yeah, the conductor came out and told us, what the fuck, man?”

“The conductor came out of his chamber?” asks Angus, “He said that he doesn’t leave it—“

“Yeah, well, he fuckin’ came out. He’s talking to Angel right now, if you want proof.”

“The body’s gone, guys—“ says Julia, “He’s—he’s just ash, now.”

“We’re going into the passenger car,” says Angus, “Leave him.”

“Have—“ Julia pauses, “Angus, I need you to walk me through this. You’re eight years old.”

“Ten.”

“You’re ten years old. You’re a detective and you work for the cops.”

“I’m technically freelance.”

“Great, cool, you freelance and occasionally work for the cops. And they let you in on the real grisly shit.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And you just saw a beheaded corpse turn to ash, and you’re like, ‘Hm, oh well!’”

Lup gets a message in her brain, from Lucretia,  _The kid has clearly seen things. Let’s listen to his plan. I still don’t trust him, but I feel like he’s the least suspicious person on this train._

“Okay, I’m lost,” says Jess, “Anyways, y’all are Josta’s squad?”

“Josta’s a fake name, I’m sorry I lied, we were running a grift but I think that’s over, right Lup? Just so you stop using that fucking voice?”

Lup glares, grabs Lucretia’s waist, and Lucretia grabs back, thinks to her,  _Fun move,_ and Lup finally says, “I’ll never ditch this character.”

“Does she even have  _motivations_ , Lup?”

“Monetary gain.”

“Oh, so she’s just normal Lup,” says Lucretia, and gives a sweet smile.

“Fuck both of you, fuck literally both of you.”  


“Okay, Jess the Beheader, I’m sorry I lied to you, uh, I’m Julia, these are my friends Lucretia and Lup, and this is Angus, he’s a little boy and I’m kind of terrified of him, now, let’s go into the—the passenger car and away from where things are burning.”

Lup hates emotional chats a lot. She’ll make Lucretia have this convo, or something.

The passenger car is full, with the conductor talking to Jeff Angel, and the trashy looking wizard Lup had been bored by earlier looking awfully nervous, unmoved from his previous location.

“Why aren’t you driving the train, Hudson?” asks Lucretia, “I was promised the safest conditions possible—“

“Ma’am, we’ve had an emergency, one of our staff members has been murdered.”

“And if you don’t keep driving the fucking train,” says Lup, “Then all of us will die too.”

“I’ve got magic working on it. We have—we have backup systems.”

“It’s interrogation time,” says Angus, “Graham, can you—can you move over here, so we can have a sorta—a claustrophobic murder mystery solving ambiance?”

“Y-yeah,” says Trashy Wizard.

“I’m going to go drive the train—“

“So soon?” asks Angus, “Sir, you were just insisting on staying!”

“Miss Sandsoff convinced me otherwise.”

“Sure, okay, whatever, stay in here,” says Julia, “Listen to the fucking kid. I told you earlier that my whole body’s a weapon? I wasn’t joking. We need an alibi, Hudson.”

“Sit the fuck down,” says Lup, and she pushes him down into a seat with her Umbra Staff.

“Very nice,” says Lucretia.

“Yeah, dope move, Lu.”

Angus says, “I know for a fact that myself as well as these three weren’t the murderer. I also know that the Rockport Slayer is on this train. I’m gonna want everybody to turn out their pockets, real fast.”

This annoying-ass kid is charismatic as all hell. As if instinctual, she empties her pockets—a few small papers Hekuba had presumably left in the pocket, including one that reads PLANTSIT FOR MERLE, a mint she’d stolen from Promise’s counter, the bowtie off Jenkins’ body, and the rock she’d taken from Angus. Julia’s pockets are alarmingly full of stolen shit, and Lucretia’s are empty, save her money pouch. Trashy Wizard has nothing, Jeff Angel and Jess are similarly unsuspicious, and Hudson has left the room.

“What the fuck,” says Lup.

“He’s the murderer,” says Angus, “Cool, thanks sir and ma’ams, we’ve got our guy!”

Angus rushes towards the engineer’s chamber, and Lup follows, obviously a little bit intrigued and kind of itching for a fight with this dude, who is, for all Lup knows, a literal serial killer. Julia and Lucretia are right beside her running.

“He—he has to want the Oculus, right? The relic?”

“Yeah, Lucretia, no shit,” says Lup, “But how does he know about it?”

“Voidfish accident?”

“Not really likely, Julia.”

“You guys are speaking in static, ma’ams,” says Angus, “Is there some device keeping me from knowing things?”

“In a way.”

“Okay—so you think Hudson’s after an item on this train?”

“One that the real Sandsoff was smuggling on the train. He killed her off, and he’s trying to get the train empty and wrecked so he can sneak off with it.”

“And this item—“

“It’s dangerous. Illusion magic related, which might explain why he killed off Jenkins, cuz Jenks is an illusion specialist, and would probably get—what was the word Carey used?”

“Thrall.”

“Thralled, yeah, and he’d be better at it than Hudson is.”

The engineer’s car door is locked, and made of wood.

“Julie? I’m gonna need you to turn around and close your eyes,” says Lup.

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

She does.

Lup casts Fire Bolt on the door, burning through it easily.

“Good move!” says Angus.

“Didn’t ask, but thanks,” she casts Prestidigitation and stops the fire, “It’s cool to turn back around, Julia.”

“Okay! I miss something cool?”

“No, I don’t think you would’ve been a fan,” says Lucretia, “Angus, you’re small, you want to go through the hole first?”

He climbs through. Lucretia follows, and Julia squeezes in after. Lup crashes in next, and they’re face to face with Hudson.

“The train will crash if you kill me.”

“I got vehicle proficiency.”

“So do I,” says Lup, “I worked in a few caravans as a kid, I know how to operate most fuckin’ vehicles.”

“You’ll need me to open your vault, get your things back—“

“We can keep your hands,” says Lucretia, flat as ever, “Cut them off. Jess still has an axe.”

“Not if I fling myself out of this train.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“We’re approaching the basin. If this train would lose control for one moment, all of you would die.”

“Including you.”

“Not if I jump now.”

“Lup,” says Julia, “Take the wheel. I trust you.”

“On it.”

She kicks Hudson, who dodges, and who runs. There’s the sound of a man hitting the ground, and jumping onto the side of the train. Lup focuses.   


Jess, Jeff Angel, and Graham the Trashy Wizard have rushed up, and are watching intently.

“Any of you fuckers know Levitate?” asks Julia.

“Ooh,” says Lucretia, “I see where you’re going with this, and I’m very—I’m very into it.”

“I also see where you’re going with this,” says Angus, “And ma’am, I’m gonna respectfully disagree with being into it.”

“I know Levitate!” says Graham.

“Great, great. Cast it on my boots?”

He does. Lup sees where Julia’s going with this, and she smiles.

“Uh, I also got this—“ Graham says, “If you put it in your mouth, you’ll get real heavy—“

“And if I take it out, I’m normal?”

“Yeah.”

“Magic beans,” sighs Lucretia, “Classic Fantasy Murder Mystery trope. Angus, they don’t put this in the Caleb Cleveland books, only the real classics.”

“Caleb Cleveland books are classics, ma’am.”

“Sure.”

“Ma’am, I have—I have the port wand—“  
  
This is about where Lup tunes out. She’s kind of busy steering a train.

The train lands up stopping, after some panic from Jeff Angel particularly, n the same garden that Lup had visited with Angus and her friends. It lands on its side. Julia emerges, finding all of them, with Hudson’s corpse in her arms, smiling like a cat that’s just found a rat carcass.

“Y’all wanna open up that safe and get your shit?”

“Yeah, man.”

“Lup, you—you handled the last item, you wanna grab this one too? Just to be safe?”

“Nah, those things are annoying. One of you take it. I just drove a train.”

“I just punched a dude to death!”

“I’m maintaining a portal. You two flip a coin or something.”

It takes some time, but they open the safe with Hudson’s arm, and Julia, eventually, grabs a small eyeglass. She stares at it for a moment, and then shoves it in her pocket.

“It offered to show me whatever I wanted. Fuckin’ thing, gotta be more specific.”  


Angus is carrying a basket overflowing with ornate silverware, and Jeff and Jess are fighting over a belt—“I won it!” says Jess.

“You cheated!”

“There’s no cheating in Battlefest, you dumb piece of—“   


And so on.

A wrecked train shows up in the outskirts of Neverwinter fifteen minutes later.

Julia hugs Jess, Lucretia offers Angus a ride with them, but he declines, because he has work to do. Lup doesn’t say anything, for a while.

Still, “Ango,” she says, writing her Farspeech frequency on one of the papers Hekuba left in her pocket, “If you ever wanna learn that—magic shit, hit me up, kay?”

“I’ll definitely hit you up, ma’am!”

“Bye, kid,” says Julia.

They head back to the moon, and it’s quiet, for a bit.

“Thanks,” says Julia, out of nowhere, halfway through the ride up.

“Whaddya—“

“For making me turn when you lit the door on fire.”

“It’s no problem, dude.”

“It’s your—your town's Governor, right? What he did. That’s why you—“

“Don’t push her, Cretia,” says Lup. She doesn’t do feelings.

“No, it’s—I don’t ever talk about it. I need to.”

“Shoot,” sighs Lup.

“I—I helped depose of him. In response, he, uh, firebombed—he firebombed the whole. Uh, my city, it was built on stone spires, and various spires were--for different people, and I lived in the craftsmen's corridor, so, uh, he bombed that. And the whole city afterward. I was—I was twenty, when it happened. My dad died, a lot of my friends too. And—the cleric that found me in the rubble said he thought I’d never—I’d never recover from the injuries I got, when the—when the. When the fuckin’ flaming pillars hit me. That’s why I got all these burns and shit.”

“Sucks,” says Lup, because there’s nothing else to say.

“Sucks,” says Julia, who’s crying and smiling, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“Hey,” says Lucretia, “We’ll—we won’t let that happen to you again.”

“I don’t wanna see anything happen to y’all. You’re—you’re the closest things I got to friends. I know you two don’t like the—“

“No,” says Lup, “We’re—we’re all friends, here. Julie. Julie. C’mere.”

And she does. 

They’re friends. And hey, they didn’t burn down a city this time. That’s progress on all fronts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -"I will jump off a moving train while levitating to fuck with a serial killer," was a part of magnus and julia's wedding vows.  
> -jeff angel and graham started dating after this chapter  
> -i love comments and kudos, but i love you more. still, comments and kudos? pretty dang nice.


	8. FORESHADOWING

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our girls arrive back, and get into some shit at a carnival. Their friends do shit too!
> 
> Julia acquires a new best friend. Lup and Merle talk about her shitty hat. Lucretia steals a book. The Captain is concerned. Carey runs into a familiar face. Noelle wants new roommates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let's get the plot going! hell yeah! no notes other than: it's plot time, folks!  
> [and also, this fic's theme song, because i keep forgetting to put it in the notes](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=erM-txyAVi4)
> 
> edit, june 30, 2017: taking new canon info into context, i have edited parts of this chapter to make more sense. if you're reading this in the future, which, cool, that's weird to think about! i did not predict the future. i just edited the past. it doesn't really change much, because ch'girl is GOOD AT PREDICTING THINGS SOMETIMES.

The Captain disposes of the Oculus easily, smiles at them gratefully, pays them well, and reminds them that the annual Midsummer festival is the next day, and that work  _is_ off and costumes  _are_ encouraged. He seems to be a very big fan of Midsummer.

Noelle, in their shared dorm, is very excited about the costume aspect—she’s been working with her team, Carey, her girlfriend Killian, and some dude named Boyland, on a paper mâché robot suit—she’s never seen a robot before, so it’s, “Pretty dang ridiculous. What are y’all doing?”

Julia launches off into a spiel immediately, as if she’s been thinking about it and nothing else since she was told that costumes were allowed, “I normally do wrestling costumes because I am  _all about_ Jess the Beheader’s general look, but I feel like I’m too close to the situation now? So I was wondering what you guys were—“

“Lup should go as the Sizzle it Up! elf, I think you look kind of—“

“Literally nobody else remembers that show,” says Lup, “Lucretia. Lucy. Cretia. I need you to look me in the eyes and tell me one other person who remembers that show.”

“It had a  _dedicated_ fanbase.”

“I have never heard of it in my goddamn life, and I was a professional fucking chef. Nobody knows who the Sizzle It Up elf is, and no one cares.“

“I’m not wearing a costume.”

“Because,” Julia contorts her voice into something mildly akin to Lucretia’s, “We ourselves are living in costume; exerting falsehoods?“

“No, I don’t wear costumes because I don’t like to. Not everything I do has depth.”

Noelle interrupts, “Y’all don’t have to tell me if you’re just gonna—“

“No, I think this is a productive conversation to have. Noelle, any suggestions for costumes?”

“The—No, I don’t.”

“Can we get in on this robot game?”

“No, Killian, Carey, and I signed up for the contest Avi’s running.”

“Okay, I’m going as the fuckin’ voidfish then, if Avi’s running the contest. Appeal to your judges. I’m good at that. I got a nastyass shower cap that I've had forever that’ll work for that.”

“I’m stealing Lup’s clothes and going as Lup.”

“Bam. Costumes.”

Lup and Julia high-five without making eye contact. Lucretia laughs. Noelle stares at them, a bit confused.

Julia, by the time the costume judging is happening, is drunk and fucked up on some mix of fried unicorn goods. Lucretia claims that they’re nasty, and refuses them, and Lup is just plain drunk. They, instead of going to the costume contest zone, have dedicated themselves to winning the magical mystery spheres in a carnival games tent—Julia eventually succeeds, and she cradles it tight, taunting Lup for her loss. The sphere, frosted glass, defrosts, and reveals a goldfish, and Julia looks happier than Lup or Lucretia have ever seen her.

“I am in love with him,” she says, “Y’all,” she says, and hiccups, “Make a shortlist of names for this sweet, beautiful boy that I am in love with.”

“He’s cute,” says Lucretia, bending down to watch it blub around. She takes a sip of her sangria.

“He’s  _very_ cute, and he’s our team mascot now.”

“This game is, like,” Julia drawls as they walk away, “ _Super_ rigged. I mega cheated on that one.”

“How’d you fucking cheat at throwing a ball?”

“I cast Light a little bit above him and he stared at it,” she hiccups again, “Then I Mage Handed it. You got better distraction spells than me, I dunno why you didn’t use one of ‘em.”

The eclipse begins like it always does, and then, it doesn’t.

“Avi!” yells Lup, “You see this costume?”   


But Avi doesn’t respond, because Avi, like most folks, is on the ground, passed out.

The sky grows black, with thin streaks of color, and eyes, everywhere in the sky, flash in front of them. There are thousands, maybe millions, of them, staring intently at the moonbase.

And they each feel the same sense of dread and familiarity creep into their stomachs, like they know something is happening but can’t place it. Lucretia thinks, and projects it, though she doesn’t know why,  _It's here._

“Okay—“ says Lucretia, eventually, as the eyes keep staring at them, “I’m the soberest—“

“And you’re seeing this shit too?”

“Absolutely I am.”

Merle has rushed to them, says, “You three are up?”

“Oh, thank God we have confirmation,” says Lucretia, “You’re—“

“Me and the Captain are up, Hekuba’s out, the plants in my fuckin’ greenhouse are wilting—“

“You have a greenhouse?”

“I enjoy plants. Lup, what the fuck is that showercap?”

“I don’t think that’s important.”

“It’s really fuckin’ ugly.”

“I know. It’s part of my costume. I don’t even remember why I kept it.”

“You should toss it.”

“Deffo.”

“Can we—can we discuss this—this force that looks like it’s trying to  _consume the sky_?”

The Captain has rushed up to them, looking panicked, which is strange, considering he’s dressed as a comically stereotypical sailor, rather than in his normal blue uniform, says, “You four—my office, now.”

When they arrive, he picks up a book from his desk, and he says, “This is—this is one of the Red Robe’s records. The,” he pauses, parsing his words,”This is the closest thing we have to concrete information about these people.”

“I’d love to look it over, annotate it—“

“That’s not needed, Lucretia, I’m—I’ve gone over it quite a few times, but it says here, uh, paraphrasing, it says,  _‘When we arrived, it never showed itself, because of the relics—LT, MK, TT had the—and I must praise them for this, despite their usual tendency to take this whole situation less seriously than myself— idea to hide them, to separate them, and that’s why the… eyes… never showed themselves. We are safe, because of the relics, despite my own protests. But the wars. I cannot stand to see my friends hurting like this, I have to--I have to do something.’_

“So by destroying the relics,” continues Davenport, “We’re invoking these—these eyes that—“

“That the Red Robes hated.”

“Yes. This was one of the defectors from the order, this was—this was their journal. We only know the initials, or, uh, code names of other Red Robes because of it.”

“I think I could help get information out of this—“

“No, it’s—a lot of the information is deeply coded.”

“Captain. I want to help.”

“And you help by retrieving the relics. Myself and our seekers can decode this. We should—we should help our employees wake up, Merle. You three—go back to the dorms. Be safe. Enjoy your holiday.”

The Captain exits.

“Okay, fuck his weird book laws,” says Lup.

Julia grabs the book off of his desk, slurs, “Hell yeah, fight the power,” and runs out, book in one hand, fish in the other. They place the book on Lucretia’s nightstand, and agree to read it in the morning.

—

Instead, they go to the gashapon machine. Lup gets some nice, comfortable slippers, bird themed, that allow her to move faster. Julia, completely hungover, despite Lucretia’s failed attempt at a magical hangover cure, gains a glove that catches arrows slung at her, and Lucretia gets a fan.

“Classy,” says Julia, “Very much playing into your mysterious rich recluse lesbian character.”

“That wasn’t a character. Very on-brand for me, though.”

“It—it’s called the Gustmaster 5000,” says Leon the Artificer.

“I’m aware of what it is.”

“Great, what use am I, then—?”

“Oh, Leon, it’s okay,” says Lup, patting his back half-heartedly with a Mage Hand.

“Please never do that again.”

“No promises.”

Julia heads to the Fantasy Costco to sell some shit she stole from the vault, as well as Promise’s locket—look—she’ll donate half of it to charity, she promises Noelle, when questioned about the morals of it.

“You have a wishlist?”

“I heard they got Pocket Spas?”

“A Ring of Recalling would be nice.”

“Dope. Also. I’m naming the goldfish after my dad.”

“Your dead father.”

“Yes.”

“That’s adorable, Julia,” says Noelle.

“His name is Steven.”

“Suits him,” says Lup.   


“The best goldfish in the world,” says Julia, proudly.

She returns later with all the requested items, plus a flask that can increase alcohol's potency and a Lens of Straight Creepin’, and a cut on her hand.

“Deals warlock wanted my blood.”

“What the fuck,” chorus Lucretia and Lup.

“I didn’t have the funds necessary, and I—I lost in a battle of ‘mercantile wits?’ and I really wanted the lens, okay, and he just—he was just like, ‘Give me your blood!’ and so I did, because, I have plenty of that.”

“Doesn’t Aasimar blood sell high on the black market?” asks Lucretia.

“Yeah,” says Noelle, “7500 GP an ounce.”

“How the  _fuck_  do you two know that? I gave him less than an ounce. And Fantasy Costco is a prestigious institution, they don’t do black market sales.”

“Fantasy Costco doesn’t, but the fuckin’ deals warlock might.”

“Redcheek Brewery caters to shady characters pretty frequently.”

“Also, Julia? Your deals warlock impression is good as hell.”

“Yeah, I know, I’m really good at that. Also! Related, I got Mockingbird Gum! For disguise times.”

“Love those times.”

“I know, I do too! So now we don’t have to make up fucking terrible voices.”

“Nice of you.”

“I’m honest.”

Lucretia begins to tune out of the conversation, leafing through the book. It’s in her handwriting, she thinks, and that doesn’t make sense, but she can’t quite put together why. 

She couldn’t have written this. Maybe it was just a coincidence. Parts of the text are blurred—this is the coding the Captain mentioned.

“Is that really a Red Robe record, or is it just the Captain’s porn mags that he was worried about having on his desk?” asks Lup, in Jess the Beheader’s voice—there is a Mockingbird Gum-related game going on, clearly.

“No, it’s—it’s a record.”

“Ooh,” Lup throws her arm around Lucretia, whose face heats up instantly, and Lup begins to read aloud, “LT is gone—TT is looking for her, which is better than me, I assume—he’s been worried sick.”

“It’s like a goddamn soap opera.”

“Narrator is a bit dramatic.”  
  
The next page of the journal is only half full, and the rest of the pages are empty.

“CD has been taking the journals. I'm sure of it. JW saw him carrying ink back to his quarters. He's been watching F while MB is under so much stress re: Chalice--I feel as if CD may be enacting the worst case scenario plan I've been working on. This may be my last entry. I am," and it cuts off.

“I got training today,” says Noelle, “So while I appreciate y’all’s adorable delinquency and mystery hunting? Killian and I are gonna spar, today. Carey’s visiting her brother for the holiday, Boyland’s with family, but I promised Kill I’d practice, so, uh, bye.”   


—

He’s at a cooking show—a reboot of an old one that ran into some legal trouble a few years back. His friend had given him some descriptions of people to find in the city, and give information to, and the host almost matches one of them. Plus, he's allowed to have fun alone, if his friend doesn't know about it.

Mostly, though, he wants the free dessert.

But then a description-matcher pops up, pickpocketing him. He almost starts a fight, but he’s in a formal setting. He won’t.

“Sorry,” he says, “Are you—are you Carey?”   
  
The dragonborn he'd met in the cave stares at him.

“You died?”

“Yes."

“You’re dead, I saw you—dude, I saw you die.”

“Life is weird, sometimes. Can you give me back my wallet, please?”

She hands it back, staring at him.

“I saw you die. You burned. Into ash.”

“Oh, shit, yeah.”

“Yeah, man. You’re  _super_ —“

“My friend, he told me to give you this. It's--it's about the Bureau, and your Captain, and--He said he’ll explain why when you give him what—what he needs, cuz it won’t make sense til then.”

“What the fuck,” she says.

“I know, it doesn’t—it doesn’t make sense to me, either, but I trust my friend, and I hope you trust me?”

“It’s just—I saw you die. And you're acting very casually about the whole thing.”

“My friend is a necromancer. I feel like that’s important to note.”

“That’s—“

“You just stole my wallet, I don’t know if you can argue about morality.”

Carey looks at him, and she sighs.

“Look,” she says, “I’ll do what I can do. I’m not getting fired for your dead ass.”

“That’s fair.”

“Yeah.”

And she leaves.

He gets up, and he gets his free dessert. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. steven is a universal constant. never changing, though found differently.  
> 1a. one time when my parents were in college my dad won a goldfish at a festival for my mom when they were on a date. they named him steven, after my dad's brother, and the fish, after three months, shat himself to death.  
> 1b. but this steven will not have that fate. this steven is immortal.  
> 2\. Mag-street's Back, ALRIGHT!  
> 3\. comments bring me life.  
> 4\. lesbians are next. love you.


	9. FLOOR TWENTY BLAZE IT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gals get a brand new mission, and, unfortunately, have to pretend to be lawful for a few minutes, which turns out as well as anyone would expect. Also, it's time for plants!
> 
> Julia steals some shit. Lucretia makes a really good weed joke. Lup saves the day in a pretty cool fucking way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -anyways. it's time, guys. it's time.  
> -this chapter's a little bit longer than previous ones--as chapters should be expected to be from here on out. i have a Not Super Flexible chapter outline for this fic (like... give or take five chapters to the current count, depending on how long stolen century/endgame end up being), which means that all arcs until crystal kingdom will be three chapters long. this works for pttm, which can kind of be divided into three major acts, but. it gets long. sorry!  
> -i made a mistake re: established canon and i was too deep into this chapter to fix it, so, uh, trent speaks common now. his butt still gets chopped off.  
> -hey merle? why'd you make your relic so fucked up, dude?  
> -i'm gonna start throwing together a playlist for this fic on playmoss or spotify or something. i'll probably link it in the next chapter!

Lup was dragged into training by Julia, who was dragged into it by Noelle, who was dragged into it by Carey’s girlfriend, Killian, who is, objectively, a delight, but also, objectively, a gym nut. Lucretia is busy—she’s been ridiculously obsessed with that journal—and so’s Carey, for whatever reason. They’re working on dodging—Noelle uses ranged weapons, and they’re rotating and using her weapon to shoot projectiles at each other.

Lup fucking loves Noelle’s weapon, might have chosen this over wizardry had she known it was an option. Except, no, she’d never do that.

Killian does a flip over a shot, landing firmly on her feet, but they’re interrupted by an intruding Hekuba. Julia asks "'Nother relic, Heks?"

Hekuba nods, “I’m gonna brief you two, because Lucretia’s already with the Captain and I don’t think she’s one for repetition.”

“Aw, shit,” says Killian, “I had a few more drills I wanted to run through with you.”

“When we get back,” says Julia, and she gives a finger gun. Lup is already out the door.

“You two ever been to Goldcliff?”

“Why do you ask?” they both say, implying that the answer is yes.

“Another relic was found there, some—some massive spike in vigilante justice. You know about the crime in Goldcliff—there’s a criminal at large called the Raven—usually just a petty thief, but she’s been appearing more and more lately, in places where other criminals are found tied up, never dead, in plant life.”

“So the Raven has the Relic?”

“Probably? The relic—the Gaia Stash—allows the user to conjure up plants out of nowhere. Creator of it was a Panite, I’d assume.”

“Like you?”

“Yes, yes. Though, no  _good_  worshipper of Pan would do something  _this_ ridiculous.”

A shorter dwarf joins them in walking, says, “Mom, Mr. Highchurch is being lewd with the plants again, so I—so I left.”

“Lup, Julia, this is my Mavis—“

“Hi, ma’ams,” says Mavis, in a shockingly similar tone to Agnes McNamara Or Whatever From The Train.

“It’s like they’re multiplying,” says Lup, with a shudder, and Julia elbows her.

“Merle tutors her sometimes when I’m on shift,” she sighs, “So—point. I was off of it. One of our Seekers, Captain Bane of the Goldcliff Militia, knows that the Sash is in town, and that it’s being used to stop criminals. He also knows that the Raven keeps popping up at the sites where these criminals are found. Therefore, with—with logic.”

“We can conclude that the Raven is using the Sash to fight criminals,” says Mavis.

“Very good, Mavis.”

“So we’re being sent to Goldcliff—“

“To assist the police in apprehending the Raven, and to retrieve the Sash.”

“And if the Raven isn’t using the Sash?” says Julia.

“That would be a whole lot of coincidence.”

Lucretia meets up with them in the hangar, she’s talking idly to Johann, in the way that two people who are bad at talking idly do—lots of prompts without followups, lots of silences, and with an absolute refusal to stop talking first. She’s carrying a quarterstaff, and she looks bored.

“The sash belonged to MH,” says Lucretia, once they’re inside their sphere, Johann on his normal takeoff prep speech, “He was their resident cleric.”

“You took notes?”

“I read up on what the relics were and who made them, because I think that facts about the person can—can help us determine the nature of the relic. The Oculus was made by their leader, who was you said that the Oculus was broad in its thrall to you, yes?”

“Yeah,” says Julia, “Real unspecific.”

“He was always focused on the big picture. The narrator criticizes him for that, for not seeing their point of view or focusing on the details. They criticize him… quite a bit. They're not very kind to any of their coworkers, actually. Though they mention romantic involvement with another member, like, mentions a lack of intimacy between themself and their girlfriend because of the Relic Wars, which--”

They’re launched.

“So, uh, cool deets on Red Robe sex life, but what are the other relics?”

“I—one’s an abjuration staff, one’s a divnation cup, one’s a transmutation stone. They didn’t know what MK or JW made, because JW was embarrassed by hers, and MK didn't want to explain it a fourth time. It's a bell, though. No other information."

“Thanks, narrator.”

“We can’t necessarily blame them—there were clearly rifts in the group developing, and they left the order for that reason. We need to focus on the Sash, for now.”

“Yo,” says Lup, “Battlewagon races happen here?”

“Yeah, Goldcliff desert. It’s illegal, though, so—“ Julia cringes.

“I love Battlewagons—“

“You hate unnecessary bloodshed—that’s—Lup, that’s your  _whole deal,_ and you love this—this wagon bloodsport?”

“Yeah, man—I grew up with—ragtag Battlewagon, y’know? Like—folks in caravans drag racing.”

She and a friend—she forgets who—had watched the races feverishly—they didn’t have much entertainment, in a lot of the caravans. Races were special. 

“Dude, that’s cool, but—“

“I just like watching the races, think they’re cool.”

“I’ve never even heard of them,” says Lucretia.

“We’ll catch a race if we can,” Julia says, “They’re pretty rad. I bet the Raven participates, everybody uses animal codenames—“

They land a quarter-mile away from their target, just then—they’re aiming for the Goldcliff Trust, but end up in an alleyway. The concrete shatters the glass, and the door hardly opens, but the three of them exit anyway, and walk straight to the Trust. The militia is there already—wagons surrounding the entrance to a building almost entirely swallowed by thorny vines. An older man—a brick shithouse, Lup’s mind supplies her with—is giving orders, and he spots them, looks at their arms, and says, “So you’re Davenport’s best, then?”

“Who?”

“You’re from the Bureau.”

“You’re Captain Bane, then,” says Lucretia.

“Yes, ma’am, I am. Davenport—“

“I do not know who Davenport is,” says Julia, “Does Davenport have a title?”

“He’s your Captain.”

“Ah.”

“Lucretia, write that down,” says Lup, “I’m gonna use that later.”

“Already did.”

“Bless.”

“Davenport said that—he said he was sending his best people.”

“I wouldn’t say best,” says Julia, as Lup says, “That’s entirely true and fair.”

“We’ve traced the Raven to the Trust, and, judging by the signs, she’s busy in there. Lieutenant Hurley made her way in there a few hours ago—before the Raven started putting vines all over the place—but we haven’t heard from her since. If you find her, contact me—and if you find the Raven? She’s wanted dead or alive, so do whatever’s necessary to retrieve the Sash and bring her to justice.”

“Okay, so—“

“Sorry, ma’ams, can I have your names so as to—to confirm your identities?”

“Lup, Lucretia, Julia, we’re good at what we do, we’ll see you later, cool, bye.”

Lup exits. She gets bad vibes off of Bane. Julia and Lucretia clearly do as well, and they’re all rather relieved.   


The entrance is covered in vines.

“Julia,” she says, “There is  _one_ way around this.”

“I got an axe that cuts down—“

“This isn’t a tree. Magical items can be particular.”

Julia axes it anyway, getting some plant-meat off of the vines, but not much. Lup sighs—she doesn’t want Julia to be upset for the whole quest, but plants are kind of—well, easy to beat with fire. Which is Lup’s  _thing._

“Fuck!” yells Julia.

“Again, magical items—“

“Dude, let me handle this. I can put it out really quickly—“

She sighs, “It’s  _embarrassing_.”

“Call out to the Captain that we’re making progress, or something. Take yourself out of the moment, dude.”  
  
She rolls her eyes, but complies. Lup fires off a Fire Bolt, and burns a hole through the vines in approximately the shape of a door.

“Bam.”  


“Okay we’re done! See you later!” yells Julia, who rushes through the door.

The lobby is posh as all hell, but it’s full of plants, which kind of dampens the vibes. There’s a giant tree nearby—Lucretia has walked over to that, while Julia is investigating a sigil on the ground.

“The Raven doesn’t have the Sash,” says Julia.

“What?” says Lucretia, poking the tree with her quarterstaff.

“She—she left a message in Thieves’ Cant. Rogue shit. Lucretia, you speak, like, seven thousand languages, how have you not heard of--”

“What’s it say, man?” asks Lup, walking over to Lucretia in case destruction is needed.

“Um. Danger. I am trying to stop the danger.”

“Maybe she’s trying to stop the danger by using the Relic?” says Lucretia, “She means for fellow thieves to find this, Julia, not—“

“She was rushed when she wrote this, like she was chasing something! Maybe the person who  _really has the relic._ Bane said that the vines didn’t show up until after his Lieutenant arrived—“

The tree moves, which trees, in Lup’s experience, don’t usually do. And it groans.

And it’s a treant. Which, cool, great, wonderful. It throws a punch, with one of its branch arms, at Lucretia’s stomach, and she falls back.

Lup automatically readies a spell—Flaming Hands—and says, “Lucretia, duck.”   
  
Lucretia complies, and the tree falls back a bit, burning. Lucretia fires a quick Eldritch Blast—Lup  _finally_ bothered to ask what that spell was called, because, aesthetically, it’s pretty damn cool, and Lup appreciates that.

“Hey!” shouts the treant.

Before anyone can do anything, Julia has already chopped it in half.

“What the fuck, man!” yells the treant, clearly brutally injured, as it picks Julia up and throws her against a wall. She hits it, clearly pained, and draws her sword with some difficulty.

“You attacked us!” responds Lup, “You punched her before I could literally say  _shit_ to you!”

“And you lit me on fire!”

“Yeah, cuz you punched Lucretia!”

“Well,” says Lucretia, “I forgive you, treant.”

“My name’s Trent.”  
  
Julia hits him with her sword halfway through his introduction.

“I’m trying to be diplomatic, here, but you did just throw her across the room. In fairness,” says Lucretia, “Let us in and we won’t attack further.”

“She chopped my butt off!”

“It’ll grow back,” says Julia, who cringes from pain as she speaks, “Why does this treant speak Common?”

“Fuck if I know! Julia, more fire—“

“Don’t burn me more!”

“If you move and stop hitting us—“

He does.

“If you asked—“

“You fucking punched her?”

“It wasn’t a great introduction.”

“I was only born—a lady grew me out of the ground—like, an hour ago.“

“What did the lady look like?” asks Julia, who inhales deeply through her teeth.

“She was tiny!”

“Tiny like—tiny, like I’m tiny in comparison to you, and also my friends, who are—if it’s not obvious in your tree-vision—significantly taller than me, or tiny—like—really tiny.”

“Shorter than you!”

“Cool, cool.”

Lucretia has moved on to the teller booths, and has uncovered a lockbox, which she holds up. It’s simple and black, made of some kind of metal. She brings it over to Julia, says, “Open it.”

Lup continues Julia’s previous tangent, “So, uh—the lady who grew you out of the ground, did she have any,” she purses her lips, thinking, “Design motifs? Like. Bird-themed?”

“No, that was the woman chasing her.”

“Moral dilemma, do we take gold from this bank, Lup, Lucretia, Trent, I guess? Give me your votes now.”

“How much?” asks Lup.

“Nine hundred GP.”

“Whose money?” adds Lucretia.

“Fuck if I know.”

“People…  _do_ do business here.”

“Again, moral dilemma. We get paid to work—“

“Money as a concept is hard to grasp,” says Trent.

“Fair.”

“But we also—we’re not paid as much as we  _deserve_ for saving the  _world,_ if you think about it.”

“This is a bank, Julia. And we’re—we’re working for the police.”

“It—it is, and we are, yeah, but. It’s nine hundred GP.”

Lup stares at Julia and nods her head. Lucretia looks up at Trent, starts saying something, but Julia shoves the money in her purse, mouths, “Halvsies,” and then shuts the lockbox, throws it over her shoulders, and says, “Yeah, actually, Cretia, you’re super right. Super right.”

“I usually am,” she says.

“Yup! Trent, what’s our way up?”

“There’s an elevator and some stairs over there—“

“You know where your lady went?”

“Up?”

“Cool, cool, nice—“

“Elevator time, then.”

“Nice, nice, yeah.”

“Bye, Trent!”

The elevator is made of glass, and has twenty floor buttons marked.

“Okay, so—if she’s going up, this—this tiny woman—props to Julia for realizing the Raven was innocent, or whatever—she’ll eventually make it to the top, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So—just hit floor twenty,” says Lucretia, who then thinks about what she just said, and giggles. Lup’s not much for the word, but it’s—it’s adorable. Composed, serious Lucretia,  _giggling_ over a very bad weed joke.

The elevator ride begins uneventfully—soft, but dreadful instrumental music enchanted to play as it goes up, as is common in elevators, is played—but by floor thirteen, shit starts to go down. Vines begin to manifest all around them. Julia draws her sword and begins chopping at them, and Lucretia is hitting them away from her with her quarterstaff, and Lup is fishing a crowbar out of her bag, but nothing seems to be working very well. Lup does what she’s good at—and she runs away.

She casts Blink.

The ethereal plane is vast. She can hear Julia and Lucretia’s panic, she can see Julia squinting at where Lup once was in a panic, and she can see small creatures lingering around her, staring, that, as soon as she notices them, disappear.

She walks forward ten feet, until she’s outside of the elevator, on the fifteenth floor.

And she’s back.

She pries open the elevator doors, and yells, “Jump!”

They do, and barely make it—Lucretia scratches her arm pretty badly, and Julia lands on her back again.

“What the hell did you just do?”

“I Blinked. It’s—it’s a new spell? That I learned.”

“I have teleportation spells too—dunno how I didn’t think of it—“

“Nah, I was—it was a weird moment of clarity.”

“Five more floors,” says Julia.

Floor fifteen is business-central, apparently, full of shitty motivational posters and cubicles. No civilians in sight, but a whole bunch of novelty coffee mugs and cacti. Lucretia is investigating a cubicle—

“There’s stairs.”

“Lup,” says Lucretia, instead of listening, “Lup! I want to show you something.”

She shoves a novelty coffee mug into Lup’s arm. It has a ridiculous, glittery logo on it.

“A  _dedicated_ fanbase,” says Lucretia, smug.

“I really—the more you show me about this show, the more I think you’re like—fuckin. Illusory Scripting information about it.”

“I would never.”

“There—there are stairs. Lup, I’m pretty sure it existed? I’m fifty-fifty on this debate, though.”

“I’m taking the mug.”

“Lucretia, this is a bank,” Julia mocks, “People do business here.”

Lucretia, unblinking, flips Julia off, and starts on the stairs.

It’s an uneventful climb.

And then, it isn’t.

On the twentieth floor, there are two figures—a halfling, wearing something like a karate gi with an overlong brown belt tied around it, and, on the other side, a woman in all black, down to the studded leather jacket on her back and the hyperrealistic bird mask on her head.

“Hurley,” says the Raven, “You’re—you’re not a killer—I know you aren’t—“

Lup hears,  _Hurley was the lieutenant’s name, right?_

_Betrayed from the inside. Real dramatic._

_On a first name basis with the Raven too._

_Remember what happened to Gundren—where he—where he went all—_

_Oh, yeah._

“Breaking and entering,” says Hurley, in a voice that’s clearly not her own, “Who are you three?”

“Hurley—you can’t hurt them—“

“We’re with the militia!” says Julia, “I swear—“

The halfling unleashes a huge gust of wind at them, knocking Lucretia to the ground, bloodied, says, “I have—I have no use for the militia anymore,” a moment of clarity, “Get out of here,” and then, back to possession, “I have become unto a god.”

“Hurley,” says the Raven, “Listen to me, it’s—it’s Sloane, Hurley, it’s—“

Hurley says, “I will apprehend you when the time is right,” and she jumps out of the building. The Raven runs to the window, and, yells, “Hurley!”

“Well, shit,” says Lup, “I thought it was gonna be easier than this.”   


“We’ve struck pretty lucky before now, yeah.”

The Raven removes her mask, revealing a beautiful half-elven woman with dark hair and a few scars on her face. She, though she looks worried for a second, shifts into smugness, and smiles at the group.

“So,” says the Raven, “I assume you’re here for me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -uh. so.  
> -i don't have much to say here! thanks again for all of your positivity re: this fic. i really super appreciate it!  
> -also! i need help with the animals. i have so much dumb shit for this fic planned out but not the animals. help me.  
> -comments + kudos bring me great joy. so does you reading this and giving it a chance!  
> -my tumblr is @yahooanswer  
> -i love you!


	10. A REAL CHARMER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the Raven on their side, our girls have some errands to run before they can get the Gaia Sash back from Lieutenant Hurley. Reasonably, they bullshit their way out of doing the nitty-gritty fighting work involved in said errands. 
> 
> Lucretia gets word from corporate. Lup finds an old friend. Julia talks about birds for a little while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. okay so. sloane is hard to write, bc there's SOME OF HER in canon but a lot of it involves her. possessed. so that's rough.  
> 1a. also like... i don't do faceclaims often but sloane in this fic is ALWAYS AND FOREVER stephanie beatriz.
> 
> 2\. [here's the playlist i was talking about](https://open.spotify.com/user/spacesnail/playlist/32U9pSudzRFHJfoeVRvX26) if you want some Mood Tunes for this fic. there's a pretty nice variety of genres/artists i hope! i'll update it as the fic goes on.
> 
> 3\. another longer chapter. but you get the deal.
> 
> 4\. thanks to @ElectricBoomerang for suggesting julia's animal! it fits SO DANG WELL, i love it.

Lucretia pulls herself off the ground, with some effort—Julia helps her, not breaking eye contact with the Raven.

“We—we’re supposed to get whoever has the belt.”

“And you’re with the militia?” she laughs.

“The militia thought it was you who had the belt.”

“Well, it’s not. So, you don’t have to arrest me.”

She approaches Julia, puts a hand on her shoulder. Julia flinches, visibly, and the Raven leans in.

“You wouldn’t arrest me, right?” she tilts her head.

“We-we don’t plan to,” says Julia. Lucretia tightens her grip on her quarterstaff, in case the Raven’s going to attack, “We’re not cops. Like—I’m—I’m the opposite of a cop.”

“But the militia hired you?”

“The militia was sorta forced to hire us.”

“Why?”

Lucretia takes the reins, because Julia is flustered, “Raven—look, we’re part of a group that exists… beyond the law.”

“Way beyond the law,” says Lup.

“We collect… dangerous magical items, like the belt Lieutenant Hurley has acquired, and we dispose of them so they can’t do anyone harm.”

“We’re apparently the best of the best.”

“Which is to say—we’re good at what we do, and we don’t really care if the militia comes after us for working with you, because we’re the only chance they have to stop this belt.”

The Raven stares at them, lifts her arm off of Julia’s shoulder, and walks over to Lucretia. She has an aura to her that suggests something beyond intimidation, and realizes—oh Gods, she’s trying for charisma, here. Lucretia manages to resist, but just barely. She probes the Raven’s mind—not usually something she does, but desperate times, she’s just saying  _Hello, I’m going to ask you some questions quietly in case there are militia people listening in. My name is Lucretia. These are my coworkers. What is your name?_

The Raven looks at her, oddly, says out loud, “It’s Sloane.”

“I’m Julia, this is Lup.”

“I’m gonna go out on a limb and say you already know our fuckin’ telepath’s name.”

“I don’t want Bane listening in. The Captain might have given him one of our Farspeech frequencies.”

“I don’t think he and the Cap are close enough for that.”

“Cap’nport,” says Julia, and it fits, feels oddly perfect, “We’re—we’ve gonna call him that from now on. I proclaim it.”

“Absolutely,” says Lup, “I love portmanteau.”

“Doesn’t everyone,” says Sloane, deadpan, uninterested.

“Sloane, we—we need to get Hurley to give us the belt.”

“I have an idea or two as to—as to how. But I think you should tell the Captain that I got away. That’s what Hurley does every time. Meet up with me later, kay? You said you used Farspeech? Here’s my frequency.”

She grabs Lucretia’s Stone, and before Lucretia can even notice it’s gone, it’s back. She puts her mask back on her head, and, like Hurley before her, jumps out of the building

Bane, when they reconvene, isn’t concerned about Lucretia and Julia’s injuries, but is concerned about Hurley’s disappearance and the Raven’s continued escape. He’s presumably a fighter, in terms of specialization, so Lucretia isn’t concerned about truth spells.

“Next time there’s an incident, Captain,” says Julia, “We’ll be there.”

“No need to call, we’ll sense it. We’re that good.”

“We secured lodgings with an old friend.”

“Well, more of a new friend—“

“An old friend, relatively speaking, Lup.”

“Look, I was—“ Bane pauses, “I was gonna set you up with Lieutenant Hurley. She has… connections with the Raven, that I don’t quite understand, and I feel she’d be useful to your apprehension of her.”

“We’re good,” says Julia, “We met the Raven up close and personal, then she knocked the shit outta Lucretia and dashed while we tried to revive her.”

“We’re on a first name basis now.”

“And, we had some serious physical contact,” says Lucretia, “She could have killed me.”

“She really, really could have, Captain.”

“What kind of connection, though?” asks Lucretia, curious—Sloane had seemed almost gentle with Hurley, earlier, like they were more than just acquaintances or rivals or friends. (Look: Lucretia hates literary convention. She does, she really does. She tries to subvert it. But she’s a sucker for a good old forbidden romance).

“Just… real good pals. It’s suspicious.”

Lucretia takes a deep breath, and looks at the Captain as seriously as she can. Lup is laughing, and Julia is desperately trying and failing to keep a straight face. So it's a forbidden romance. 

They exit, head back to the alley they landed in, and contact Sloane, who, as if teleported, bounces in thirty seconds later.

“Sup?” she says, once again removing her helmet. She’s a bit sweaty, a bit nervous.

“He was talkin’ about how you and Hurley are together.”

“Who?”

“Militia captain. He has ‘suspicions.’”

Sloane fidgets uncomfortably.

“I brought healing potions.”

“Oh,” says Lucretia. She drinks it, maybe greedily, but frankly, she deserves it.

“Hurley’s tough. Good at what she does.”

“Which is—“

“Being a monk.”

“Ooh.”

“Yeah. She usually does the healing, between the two of us.”

“So you’re—“

“We’re together, yes.”

“That’s—that’s very sweet, actually.”

“She—she started changing, a little while back. Got distant. I thought it was just work stress—like you said, the—the Bane has his suspicions, or whatever, but she just—she acted differently. Like she was possessed, every so often.”

“The belt.”

“Yeah, yeah, the—the belt. She picked that belt up, and everything changed. Spent all her time at work or in the garage. Walk with me.”

They go through alleys, and Sloane keeps talking.

“Her… lucid moments were werid. She was—she wouldn’t take the belt off.”

“Even in bed?”

“Really,  _super_  TMI, but—no, actually, not even in bed.”

“Ew.”

“Yeah, not pleasant.”

Sloane enters some numbers into a keypad, and a garage door swings open. The room is full of scrap metal and wood, and there’s a big, blue tarp in the middle of the room covering a wagon-shaped object.

“Called that you were a Battlewagoner!” say Julia, “Called it. That’s really—that’s cool, dude.”

“Yeah, it fuckin’ is. Hurley and I raced together.”

“Julia said Goldcliff racers have animal codenames, so, uh—The Raven and the—“

“The Ram,” Sloane smiles, “We’re the best there are. Well, we were the best there are, til she ran out. This is my old garage, from before we partnered up. During our last few races together, she—she started using the belt’s—thing. She would split the earth, attack other people with vines like she did in the bank. It was really—it was really fuckin’ dope, and I was into it a  _lot_ , but also? I’m not one to shy away from danger, but it wasn’t really in my comfort zone. And my comfort zone is pretty fuckin’ big. And she grew obsessed with this, like—this power that she had. Like she’d been chosen for something bigger than herself.”

“And—you said,” says Lucretia, “You said you knew how to stop her?”

“She wants proof that there’s something out there stronger than her.”

“So—“

“So, you three are gonna help me kick my girlfriend’s ass at Battlewagon.”

She pulls the tarp off, revealing a pitch black wagon—designed with clear care for the art of car design, but without much time to actually build it.

“But I need something.”

“What—“

“Look, my wagon? It needs an arcane core. Hurley and I use ‘em, but the guys who have the best ones in town right now? I have some shit with them that would maybe get me killed. The Hammerheads.”

“Shark theme, nice.”

“Yeah, uh, give me your animal themes if you want ‘em.”

“Hell yes,” says Julia, who leans in and whispers something to Sloane.

“For you?”

“Yeah.”

“Alr—alright, man.”

“Uh, so—I’m assuming you aren’t lawful types—“

“Chaotic good at our very best,” says Julia.

“I’m more—True Neutral to Neutral Good,” says Lucretia, realizing it’s been years since she last took that personality test.

“I’m a Scorpio,” says Lup.

“Cool, cool, I need you to steal this core for me. Pretend—try and pretend you don’t know who I am?”

Lucretia eyes Julia, who is beaming at Lup, who is beaming at Lucretia.

“So,” says Lup, after Sloane dismisses them, “We’re gonna infiltrate. We’re not killing these fools.”

“Unless absolutely necessary,” Lucretia and Julia drone, instinctively.

“Unless absolutely necessary and we have no other options. Yeah.”

“How do we infiltrate?”

“Uh, you do your whole Charming thing, convince one of them that you’re old buds, and just roll on charisma the whole time.”

“I also know Charm Person.”

“Dope, so we’ll save one of y’all’s Charm Person for whoever’s in charge.

“Julia, I think you save yours, just because it’s—it’s almost a signature move, frankly, and he’ll—he’ll be tougher to sway.”

“It’s just— it’s a beautiful ethical dilemma, Charming. Absolutely hate doing it, but I also like being liked and staying alive? So, sacrifices gotta be made.”

They approach the garage they were told to approach, and Lucretia already is not a fan of this situation. There are two kids—ten, twelve years younger than Lucretia—outside the door, relaxing. She goes for the tinier one, and casts Charm Person, and says, in what is perhaps an imitation of her older sister, higher-pitched and more thrilled by everything, “Oh my gosh, I used to babysit you, didn’t I?”

Julia stifles a laugh.

“Yeah, I think you might have!”

“Yeah, it’s—it’s me, Lucy!”

Lup grabs her own stomach and twitches her eye. Lucretia lays the character on even more thick.

“It’s Jerry!”

“Jerry, oh my  _God,_ what a coincidence! Myself and my—my friends were wanting—we do some—“

“Sorry, who are you?”

“I’m Lucy, I babysat Jerry back when he was little. He’s a sweet boy, isn’t he?”

“Afraid of trains, though,”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s a bummer. My friends and I—we work for the arcane core company, now, and we think there are some defects in your recent delivery?”

“What?” says Jerry’s companion.

“Yeah, uh,” Julia says, “We’ll bring replacements ASAP.”

“Jerry, you know these chicks?”

“I think she was my babysitter,” says Jerry, pointing at Lucretia.

“And how do I know that you ladies aren’t runnin’ a grift?”

“Um.”

Lucretia sighs, goes with what is apparently a thing she does now, and casts Illusory Script on an index card in her bag pocket to read  _LUCRETIA OLATUNJI - CUSTOMER SERVICE - ARCANE inCOREporated._

“Aw, c’mon, Jerreeeee, these ladies mean well! I get really good vibes off ‘em.”

“Really, we just need the cores, we’ll bring your replacements as soon as we can, and everyone’s happy!” says Lup, “We’re really good at our jobs.”

“We’re incredible.”

“The best in the biz.”

“Jerry, other Jerry—“

“It’s Jerreeeee,” says the second one.

“Okay, cool, great,” continues Lup, shooting Lucretia a look as if to ask  _what the hell is the difference?_ , “But,  _listen_ , it’ll only be a few minutes. If you just let us in, we can handle everything.”

“Like,” Julia tries to snap, fails, and tries again a few more times before succeeding, “Like  _that_.”

“What’s defective about ‘em?” asks Jerreeeee.

“Most things? Look, I’m not a technician,” says Lucretia, “I just do as I’m told. There’s a huge ol’ product recall.”

A third ruffian enters the scene, and Lucretia braces herself to lie a little more.

“Oh my God,” says the third ruffian, a buff, albeit scrappy young human man, “Are you Lucretia Olatunji? You know, from the newspapers?”

“What?” says Lucretia.

“Yeah, Barb, that’s her name. She’s here cuz the arcane cores are recalled or whatever.”

“I love your pamphlets, man, you gotta—can you sign—“

“I actually have made a major career shift, recently, trying to distance myself from the written word.”

“I—I get it,” he looks saddened, for a moment, but shifts back to his tougher persona.

“Can I—can myself and my coworkers go do our job, now, please.”

They lead them into a system of buildings, eventually twisting around to a workshop, wherein some men are working on a tank. There’s a large, burly figure encased in a metal suit on the side of the room, chained up.

“Shark tank,” says Lucretia, “Very clever. Lup, look around, make sure nothing’s tainted because of the—the cores.”

“You’re lucky we haven’t put the core in yet,” says Jerry, “They’re hard to remove.”

“I know,” she says, though she doesn’t.

“I like you a whole lot.”

“Thanks, Jerry.”

“Yo, boss!” says Jereeeee, “These folks are from the Arcane Core manufacturer, say there’s a defect.”

“We’ll send replacements ASAP as possible!” says Julia.

“That’s not—“

“Bad execution,” shouts Lup from across the room. She’s poking the metal figure with her umbrella, whispering to them on occasion.

A cleaner looking man approaches Lucretia and Julia, says, “Hello, ladies.”

“Hello.”

“Name’s Maarvy.”

“Oh, no introductions necessary, Maarvy, we heard about you at corporate.”

Julia does a quick hand motion. Maarvy’s eyes glaze over, and Lucretia nods.

“We’re just gonna need to take back the cores, okay? We’re experts in handling them. Can I ask about the metal fella?”

“Rare import,” smiles Maarvy.

“Ooh. Not sure corporate’ll like selling to you anymore if you—if you chain folks up. We try to keep our products used only in safe for work contexts—safe for work in both a sex way and a workplace safety way, like—chains is not good for this environment either way. Can you,” Julia smiles, in the way she always does, toothy and warm—hospitable, Lucretia might say, “Can you let this fella go? Just so as to—to prevent us from having to lose a valuable customer.”

“Boss, don’t—“ says one of the mechanics.

“No, no—“

Lup yells, “You guys remember Klaarg?”

“What?”

“Klaarg! The guy Julia got to—“

_Continue,_ thinks Lucretia.

_It’s him, in the chains?_

_Fuck._

There’s an audible whimper.

Julia puts her hand on her sword.

“Listen,” Lup says, “Marvin, Maarvy, I—I didn’t hear so good. I don’t wanna make this anymore difficult than it has to be. But my friend has a  _very big_ sword, and if you don’t let this dude go, she will use it.”

“Boss, we’re gettin’ robbed,” says one of the mechanics.

“No, I trust these gals—Look, I’ll let him go. Boys, stand down. These are friends.”

“We’re friends,” says Lucretia, “All best friends.”

Maavry hands Julia a box, which she lifts with some effort.

“Nice,” she says, “Replacement’s’ll be in soon.”

Lup continues, “‘Kay, cool, let the bugbear go safe, bye.”

Lucretia says absolutely nothing at all.

They hear a roaring behind them—Klaarg, almost definitely, and Julia starts running from there, says, “Okay, as a note—he probably  _super_ hates me right now. So will those dudes if we ever see them again, so, uh. Beware.”

“You got it that fast?” Sloane exclaims when they arrive back at her garage.

“We’re  _super good_ at getting magical shit.”

Sloane looks at the core like it’s the most beautiful thing she’s seen in her entire life. She pops the hood of her wagon, places it in carefully.

“Okay, so let’s discuss roles.”

“What?” asks Lucretia.

“You’re—you’re gonna help me. That’s why I asked about the animals? B-t-dubs.”

She tosses Lucretia a mask in the shape of a black cat, says, “Try it on.”

It fits well.

“Lup, check it—“

It’s a badger.

“Okay, okay, I—I can see sleek and mysterious for Lucretia, here, but—“

“They’re loyal, they’re angry with good reason, and they eat snakes, which is pretty baller. You gotta do some self-reflection sometimes, and ask—if you were an animal, would you eat snakes? Because I deffo would.”

“She said mongoose first, but I’ve never seen one in my life.”

“They’re—they, like badgers, can stand up for themselves, hold their own, and  _eat snakes._ ”

“Fair, that’s—fair. And Julia, trying to cop my bird theme—“

It’s a swan. Lucretia laughs.

“You’re—swans are a bit more composed?”

“You ever met a swan?”

“No.”

“You underestimate them cuz of their looks—you’ve read stories, they’re graceful  _as all hell,_ and I do some pretty dope acrobatics on the reg, they symbolize creativity and love in a lot of—“

“It’s just—“

“I’m not joking! I grew up in a pretty—feathery area, considering Raven Queen cults were  _everywhere_ and that I literally have  _feathers on my body in some places_  and I know a bunch about birds, dude, and I relate _deeply_  to the noble swan.”

“It fits,” says Sloane.

“Also, they sound weird and I enjoy that.”

“Fair.”

“Okay, roles, though. Uh, Julia, you’re on defense. If somebody climbs on, you knock them the  _fuck off._ Lup, you—I saw you readying up some fire spells in the bank—we need you on attack.”

“Dope.”

“Lucretia, that leaves you on repairs. I got this—it’s an adamant spanner.”

“I’ve always wanted one of these—“

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool.”

“And I’ll set you up with your harnesses in the morning.”

“So—will Hurley—will Hurley cheat?”

“God, no, uh—she’s super honorable. All about her own personal code, and cheating? Not a part of that.”

“But the belt—“

“Even with the belt.”

Sloane sets them up on various couches and chairs, and tells them to sleep well, they’ll need it.

Lucretia worries about the implications of that all night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. so, as per usual, comments & kudos bring me life, but like, especially now as i publish this chapter because we are approaching the 69 mark for BOTH OF THOSE THINGS. holy shit. Nice.  
> 2\. my tumblr is @yahooanswer. hmu!


	11. SOMEWHERE IN THE DISTANCE, LUDACRIS SMILES

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to 2-Fast-2-Furious our way through the rest of this arc, and unbury our gays. Hell yeah, you guys.
> 
> Julia gets a taste of her own medicine. Lup lives out a childhood dream. Lucretia kicks a guy's ass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. garyl makes his debut in this chapter! just in case you're here for horse-related reasons! which, like. who isn't.  
> 2\. fuck the bury your gays trope.  
> 3\. also: it's Red Robe Time. enjoy that.  
> 4\. this chapter is relatively short, because, looking at transcripts, NINETY PERCENT OF THESE FOUR EPISODES ARE JUST ROLLING. not much dialogue or plot, it's just... not much in a long period. so. i expedited things, as i'm wont to do, and as this fic sort of demands. sorry. i hope you like it anyway!  
> 5\. LET'S ALSO DISCUSS YESTERDAY'S EPISODE, BECAUSE HOLY DANG.

Julia’s only ever seen Battlewagon twice, back when she lived in Goldcliff and helped a  _ridiculously_ rich family remodel their home. They didn’t know about her shadier jobs, and took to her quickly—treated her as if she was family, a daughter. They took her to see the races, and holy  _shit_ has the sport evolved in the six years since then.

The race is batshit from the get-go. She has her sword readied in case someone tries to jump on, a Mage Hand ready in case she needs to grab something off another wagon, and a good look at Lup and Lucretia in their zones of the wagon. Sloane is harder to see, silent and focused on her driving. Lup has already knocked one wagon—more of a wheel, than a wagon, out by distracting its driver—wearing a gerbil mask—with Hideous Laughter, but there’s a lot left to handle.

Like, for example, the fucking claw that just grabbed Lucretia off of the back of the wagon.

“What—?” yells Lup, clearly panicking.

“I got an idea—give me a sec _._ ”  
Lucretia is in a tank full of water, being smothered by some aquatic creature. Julia thinks, for a moment, says, “You got Magic Missle, Lup?”

“Yeah!”

“Magic Missle the  _fuck out of that tank!”_

She does that.

Lucretia begins to fall as the glass shatters, and, in a moment of brilliance, Lup casts Phantom Steed to catch her.

“Childhood dream of mine,” she brags, “I had an imaginary friend, and we went on adventures with our fuckin’ pet binicorn. His name’s Garyl, he's chill as hell.”

Lucretia, on the binicorn, gallops forward, looking horrified, but hey, they’re rid of that tank.

They’re in second, at this point, right behind Lieutenant Hurley—fast as hell and tearing the road to shreds. But behind them—right, right behind them, clearly taking aim at Julia, who is very much Fantasy-Teen-Wolfing it, thanks—are a cart guided by an armored boar, and a crate, seemingly gliding through the wasteland.

Julia casts Witch Bolt at the boar, which isn’t necessarily her job—that’s more Lup’s role, here, but technically, she’s the defense of this wagon, and attacking unprompted is sort of pre-defense. It hits the boar damn well, and she maintains the connection to ward it off, keep doing damage.

Julia can smell smoke coming from the crate. She breathes deep, thinks, desperate times, and keeps her focus on the boar, which, as damage hits it again, and again from her spell, falls to the ground, injured and unfit for further travel, but not dead.

“Sick move!” yells Sloane from the driver’s seat.

“Thanks!”

“And you didn’t kill or enchant the drivers!” says Lup, “Character development!”

“Not yet!”

And then—and then, from further behind, a tank rolls up.

The Hammerheads.

Fuck.

Julia looks over to the crate, sees that it is very much on fire, and sees a humanoid in a cricket mask fall out of it, burned.

Lucretia, from Garyl, is Eldritch Blasting the Hammerheads’ tank, sitting backwards and looking incredibly uncomfortable. Her mask doesn’t quite disguise her completely, and the Hammerheads pull up on her faster, clearly intending harm. Julia is frozen.

Someone from the crate, unburnt, hits her with something. She zones out, for a moment.

She rips off her safety harness, and jumps off of the back of the cart. She can hear Lup and Sloane yelling for her, can hear Lucretia yelling “What the hell are you doing?” at a volume she did not think Lucretia could reach until this point, but she can’t answer. She’s midair, panicking, unable to control her own actions, and then—

“That was a close one, wasn’t it?”  


Klaarg, again. Fuck.

“I was worried about you!” he says.

His eyes are opaque, like he’s charmed, but she knows for a  _fact_ that Charm Person only lasts for an hour, and that yesterday, he had hated her and Lup and Lucretia. Something’s up.

“Yeah, uh—“ she says, “Uh, are you good, dude?”

“Oh, yes, I’m good. I saw you and your coworkers yesterday and I—I assumed you were racing, and I just got concerned! I’m not necessarily signed up, but, it’s just land, what’s the government going to do to stop me? Roads are—”

“Yeah, yeah, Johnson twenty-sixteen, or whatever the fuck,” she rolls her eyes, “But, like—are you—you don’t hate me?”

“Why would I hate you? I consider us friends!”

“Yeah, okay,” she says, and then, “Can you drive me back up to the Raven’s car? I need to help defend—“

“Oh, of course!”

He does, and she jumps out, landing right next to Sloane.

“Julia,” says Sloane, eyes not moving at all from the road, “What the fuck was that.”

Lup yells, “I knocked the dude who charmed you the  _fuck out!_ ”

“Thanks, bud!”

“It was dope!”

“I bet!”

She climbs back up on top of the wagon, and notices Lucretia galloping up to join them again. and Julia pulls her back into the wagon. Lup waves her hand, and Garyl says, chill, “Thank you for believing,” as he slowly fades from existence.

The shark tank draws closer.

Lucretia hits the wagon—a bit worse for the wear from all of the jumping off and the attacks—with her Spanner, reparing it decently. She then turns, sighs, and disappears in a cloud of mist, reappearing on the front of the shark tank. She climbs inside a compartment, flashing a thumbs up, though not smiling, as she descends.

“Literally,” says Sloane, still focused, “What the  _fuck_ is wrong with you three?”

Julia, concerned, slips into the spot Lucretia had started in, and sees a big red button covered in a hatch. At this point, Lucretia reappears, bloodied, but the shark tank has just stopped.

“I just killed Maarvy,” she says, like she’s bored, which, Gods, Julia adores that about Lucretia, in a way, nothing ever shocks her, “Sloane, do you—do you have healing spells?”  
“Nope.”

Lucretia squeezes into Lup’s compartment, says, “Fuck.”

“About right,” Julia says, and she says, “I’m good to press this?”

They’re pulling up on Hurley’s car, not far from it now.

“Fuckin’ shoot,” says Sloane, smiling.

“Hell yeah.”

Julia presses the button, after considerable effort in lifting the hatch—it is definitely a worst-case scenario button, and, yeah, they need to get the relic ASAP, so.

She goes faster than she’s ever gone in her entire life—faster than she thought was possible. And then, they’re right next to Lieutenant Hurley, in her wagon, alone, almost laughing. Hurley pulls ahead, and Lup says, “Y’all, I’m about to do something super fucking dumb to win this!”

“Hell yeah!”

Suddenly, Lup is gone. Lucretia screams, as Lieutenant Hurley, wearing the Gaia Sash, appears next to her.   
  
“What the fuck?” yells Sloane.

Lup crosses the finish line moments before the rest of them, and she stops really quickly. Hurley’s mask has fallen off, though Sloane’s has not, and Hurley has jumped out of Sloane’s wagon.

Captain Bane, at the finish line, for whatever reason, gasps. And he turns to Julia, and says, “You were working with the Raven?”  


“We did what we had to do,” says Lucretia, cringing as she speaks.

“Hurley,” says Sloane, approaching the halfling, who starts shooting vines up at the four of them, creating a wall between them and the Captain.

“Give us the Sash,” says Lucretia, to Hurley, “We can—we can help you.”

“I am absolute,” says Hurley, like she’s speaking with multiple voices at once, rather than just one, “I will not free your friend.”

She ties up Julia and Lup with a vine shot from each hand. Julia panics, feeling thorns digging into her skin.

“We—we got Gundren back to himself,” says Lup, “By saying shit about him—by—the bodyman kept talking about his family—“

“Sloane!” yells Julia, “You have to—you and she—you gotta talk to her! Remind her of who she is!”

“I don’t know who she is, anymore!” Sloane’s voice cracks. She takes off her mask.

Julia casts Mage Hand and begins trying to untie herself, maybe grab her own sword  or axe and chop her way out of this situation, as Lucretia is working on untying Lup, first. She manages to make some progress on the vines, as Sloane grabs something from the car, smashes it on the ground.

“You got spell slots back, now,” she smiles, “Hurley, listen to me—“

Hurley begins to raise some different vines from the ground, all around her. Lup says, “Shit!” out loud, and casts Fireball, as if sculpting the fire to not hit Hurley.

Controlled, thinks Julia. Controlled.

“Hurley!” yells Sloane, “Hurley, come over here—“

“I am unto a God,” says not-Hurley, as the vines around her turn to ash.

“You’re not—you’re  _you!”_

Sloane rushes over to Hurley, jumping through the fire, and whispers something. Takes off her mask, bends over, and kisses Hurley’s forehead. The vines, black and white and with a distinct acidic scent, begin to wilt.

“You’re in trouble,” teases Sloane, gentler than before, as the vines around them fall.

“Yeah,” says Hurley, sad, in a tone more suiting of her, “Yeah I am. I was—I was such a dumbass, Sloane.”  
  
She unties the sash from her waist, and it falls to the ground, landing in between the masks of the two of them, surrounded in pale pink petals.

They’re right by the outskirts of town, Julia realizes, as the vines come down. There’s the river, there’s the skyline, and there’s Hurley and Sloane, in the center of her line of vision, holding hands.

She says, “Don’t wanna ruin this moment, I’m—I’m getting very emotional, but. I’m gonna grab the Sash, real fast, real quick.”

Lup and Lucretia are standing back, Lup’s head rested on Lucretia’s shoulder. She smiles, at that, and then, the Sash calls to her.

_Don’t you want to be a God?_ it asks her,  _I know you—_

“Fuck you,” she says to sash, and it says,  _Yeah, okay, whatever you say,_ like it’s using sarcasm or some shit like that. An insecure relic. She laughs.

She tosses it over her shoulder, and says, “Look,” to Bane, staring at them all, mouth agape, “Don’t you think these two would be a little bit more useful up there?” she gestures to the sky, “I mean, your whole department just saw Hurley Battlewagonning. So, uh. I think we take her to Special Ops, y’know? And, we’d be ridding the city of a petty thief.”  
“I’ll meet the three of you in my office and we’ll discuss,” he says, gruff, staring at Julia’s shoulder. She shifts uncomfortably.

“See y’all in a few,” she says to Hurley and Sloane, grabbing Lup and Lucretia to come with her, “Gonna secure you some jobs with the three of us.”

Bane’s office is cold, undecorated.

“This is your third Relic?”

“Yeah.”

“How do you—how do the three of you resist them?”

There’s a sound of static and a feeling of coldness behind Julia.

“We’re good at what we do,” says Lucretia plainnly.

“We take no shit.”

“Yeah.”

He pours them drinks.

None of them reach out for them. It is an unacknowledged but known truth between the three of them that Bane is a shady character. Shady men offering drinks is usually a no-go.

“A toast?” he asks.

“I’m not thirsty,” says Lucretia.

“Don’t do alcohol,” lies Julia, through her teeth.

“It’s, like, noon.”

“This is—this is good brandy,” he says, voice raising.

But then, he seems overtaken, almost possessed, by a red light. Julia puts her hand on the hilt of her sword.

He picks up Lucretia and Julia’s glasses, smashing them to the ground, but then he reaches for Lup’s and chugs it. He’s overtaken by some force, “Poison,” whispers Lup, and he falls to the ground.

An accented voice behind them says, “Are you three safe?”  


“Fine, Downton Abbey,” says Lup, snarky, turning around—

And it’s a floating red robe, full of static.

“These items,” says the Red Robe, “Are—are something akin to It.”  


Julia throws a punch at it, but her hand phases right through.

“Bringing them together will make the Hunger—“

Lup casts Magic Missile, which lands on the wall.

“Don’t try,” they say, “You’ll hurt yourself. It consumes all.”

“What?”

“You have to be cautious,” they say, “Be alert. This is—this is your first lesson.”

And they fade from the room.

“That was the Big Bad, right?” asks Julia, “The—the—“

“None of them are written as having ridiculous accents,” says Lucretia, “I, personally, would have described that voice in great detail.”

“Well, it’s not your book. Maybe they were all ridiculously posh.”

“Maybe they’re the narrator.”

“They were trying to help.”

The Captain lies dead on the floor. Julia and Lup grab the suitcases of prize money off of his desk, and they set out.

“Welcome to Special Ops,” says Julia, ushering Sloane and Hurley into the sphere, “We think we could use you two around.”

And off they go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, so, uh, lunar interlude time (in which we'll meet a scientist, and have some mini stories for each gal, and maybe get some plot done), and then it's time for Original Arc Do Not Steal, which i am. fucking terrified about. lordy.
> 
> comments + crit are super super welcome! kudos are also super fucking appreciated. i love you!


	12. HEALTHY CONVERSATIONS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for another Lunar Interlude! Which also means it's time to catch up with our buds at the Bureau of Balance.
> 
> Lucretia meets a scientist and gets very drunk. Julia accidentally mentors a child. Lup has an odd encounter.
> 
> Davenport apologizes, in a way. Carey is very, very worried about job permanence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. here's a lunar interlude for you. i split our girls up for it, like all other lunar interludes from this point forward. it's pretty exposition-focused, sorry.  
> 2\. angus 2 the sequel to angus. yes. he's back!  
> 3\. I AM NOT READY FOR THE NEXT THREE CHAPTERS OF THIS. i'm very worried about my original arc do not steal, okay.  
> 4\. i love you!

The sash is quickly disposed of, and Hekuba and Merle take Hurley and Sloane back to interview separately. The Captain stares at the Reclaimers intensely.

“Bane is dead?”

“Yeah, tried to poison us but—“

“But what?”

“I was saying, uh—“

“Someone in a Red Robe with a weird accent saved us. Made him drink it.”

“Did you try and stop them?”

“I Magic Missled ‘em, but they told me to stop, and the missiles just—“

“Went straight through them.”

The Captain places his hands on his desk, says, “Can one of you take these papers here to Avi?”

He shoves a stack of documents forward, and Lucretia takes them into her hands, peeking at them.

“You—when you see these figures, you can’t trust them, even if they—“  


“Save our lives.”  


“Yeah, yeah. That. Did it—did they sneak up on you, or was there a lot of fanfare?”  


“It took me a little bit to recognize it.”  


He writes something down, says, “The three of you cannot trust them. I assumed they were all dead.”  


“You might have assumed right. They looked undead.”  


“There were only two undead members among them—“  


“Strange for dark wizards.”  


“I suppose,” he sighs. He taps his fingers— three on his right hand, five on his left—on his desk, looks up at the three of them, “I encountered them once, before I started the Bureau.”  


“And?”  


“They were—reckless. They were not very careful folks. Tight knit.”  


“Did they try and hurt you?”  


“That wasn’t their style,” he says, and he laughs, a little bit, and looks sad.  


“Their whole thing was more creating items that lead others to hurt people.”

“Yes. One of them—one of them predicted that. And one of the others—he argued that it was for the greater good. And he was wrong.”

“Obvi.”

“Yeah.”

He dismisses them, stares at nothing.

—

Lucretia goes down to the Voidfish’s chambers and arrives in the middle of a conversation.

A woman not wearing a bracer is arguing, rather loudly, passionately, with Avi, who is the opposite of loud or passionate. The woman, in a white lab coat over a long, violet dress, is older than Lucretia by ten or fifteen years, and she is absolutely stunning. Composed and elegant and, sure, plain hot. 

She says, “We don’t know anything about this creature save from what the Captain tells us—there’s no documentation of such a creature ever existing on this _plane!”  
_

“Ma’am, I’m not sure I’m the guy to talk to about this—“

“What if it dies?”

“We’re fucked, ma’am, but again, I—“

“Avi?” Lucretia interrupts, sensing his discomfort, “Uh, Captain sent files on a man who tried to kill Lup, Julia, and myself—“

“Oh, shit. You good?”

“Well, I’m here.”

“Yeah,” Avi smiles, “Maureen, this is Lucretia, she’s been handlin’ the Relics, lately. By the way, dope moves in that race—“

“Thank you.”

“Also! Saw you brought the Raven and the Ram with you, so—Carey and Killian are gonna fuckin’ lose their shit.”

“Big fans?”

“Carey said icons.”

The woman in the white coat is looking Lucretia up and down, as if seeing whether or not she’s acceptable. Maureen, Avi had said her name was. Lucretia is suddenly very aware of the fact that she hasn’t showered in three days, and that she’s still rather bloodied, and that she might be polygonning, as her friends call it.

“It’s a pleasure to meet the savior of this organization,” says Maureen, with what may or may not be a hint of sarcasm. Her tone is such that it’s honestly difficult to tell.  


“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Maureen.”  


“I’ve been hearing very good things about the work you and your team have been doing. Two Grand Relics in two months?”  


“Three, as of today.”  


“Very nice,” she says.  


“Thank you.”

She does not say any goodbyes, instead turns, and walks out. Avi takes the papers out of Lucretia’s hand and feeds them to the Voidfish.   
  
“When a member of the Bureau dies,” he explains, as a flash of light illuminates the room, “We—we erase them. It’s protocol. Kinda scary.”

“Yes,” she says, “But it makes sense.”

“I guess. Sorry about Maureen.”

“No, I liked her.”

“Yeah, she’s—she’s cool, I guess, but also super intimidating and a little bit callous. You know?”

“I know.”

“What fuckin’—what spell did you cast to teleport to the shark?”

“Oh— us, it was Misty Step.”

“Dope, dope.”

He leans back against the Voidfish’s tank, pops some chip into his mouth out of a bowl beside him.

She sits next to him. He offers her a flask, and she accept it eagerly.

“Why do you—man, why do you do this Reclaiming thing?”

“What?”

“You look like you’re two steps away from death.”  
  
He shoves a healing potion her way.

“Bee-tee-dubs.”

“Thanks.”

She feels revitalized, a bit. 

“So, why the Bureau?”  


“Nothing better to do,” she says, after some thought.  


“Fair.”  


“We were forced into it, if I’m being honest, after the whole…Gauntlet situation, but. I wasn’t getting much work, anyway. I found something I was good at.”  


“Gettin’ wrecked?”  


“Essentially. And there are—there are benefits to having people around you. To not being alone.”  


“Ooh,” he says, a hint of teasing in his voice, “You gotta crush on somebody in the Bureau?”  


“Shut up,” she says, and elbows him, but she smiles.  


“I can hook you _up_ ,” he continues, “People listen to me about love.”  


“Sure they do.”  


“Hey! I’m good at advice. I'm an expert. And a sexpert.”  


“Bet you are. Though, if there's a degree on your wall--"  


“Be careful, though, the Captain doesn’t love office relationships. Says they always end badly. But what the _fuck_ does he know?”  


“Nothing,” she says, taking another swig.  


“Fuckin’ buzzkill of a man. Who in the Bureau he have a messy breakup with, y’think—“  


“Merle,” she says, without waiting a beat.  


“That’s what Johann and I think, but Carey swears it was Leon.”  


“Garfield the Deals Warlock,” she contributes.  


“I—Killian said that, and I—I don’t wanna have to visualize it further. Brian The Seeker wanted to play, said Hekuba, but. No.”

The Voidfish sings a bit, and they drink, and they laugh, and they drink.

—

Julia is walking out of her (brand new, super fancy, Reclaimers-exclusive because Noelle is moving in with Killian and Carey) dorm when she runs into an alarmingly familiar face.

“Hello, ma’am! I didn’t know you worked for the Bureau, though I should’ve expected—“  


“Angus From The Train,” she says, eyes widening, “You work here now.”  


“I was put on a missing persons case, but the missing person was—he was missing from people’s memories! So, push come to shove, they couldn’t beat me, so they hired me! And I’m assigned to help out the Reclaimers as a Seeker.”  


“Well, you’ve—you’ve found one of us! Kid, you want—I got cup noodles at the Fantasy Costco right before this last trip, I was gonna make them. You hungry?”  


“Ma’am, I can’t intrude—“  


“It’s fucking cup noodles, Ango. You know how sad I’d look eating cup noodles alone on the couch cuz my roommates are off gods-know-where?”  


“That’s fair, ma’am.”

He’s scarfing them up like he’s never eaten before.

“I’m such a shitty cook,” she says, “Usually, Lup insists on cooking or we eat in the cafeteria, but—“  


“Your parents never taught you?” he asks.  


“My dad did all the cooking,” she laughs, “I was gonna work for him my whole life—I loved the shop a lot, but—I just assumed I’d have his food forever. Never learned how to make what he made. I lived  off these until really recently.”

“Where were you from?”

“Uh, little town called Raven’s Roost. It was really cute.”

“Never heard of it.”

“Yeah, most—most people haven’t. It’s in the mountains.”

“Which mountains?”

She thinks, for a moment.

“I don’t recall,” she says. Her brain feels fuzzy, “Unrelated, but did your parents teach you how to cook?”

“No, they—my parents are gone.”

“Oh.”

She ruffles the kid’s hair. 

“I get that, buddy.”  


“It’s not that important.”  


“Hey, you told Lup you wanted to learn magic?”  


“Yes, ma’am!”  


“You—you can really just call me Julia.”

“That’s—“

“Dude. I’m not as good at magic as Lup or Lucretia, but I can help out, a little bit. With cantrips, and such. You’re a kid detective, right?”

“Yes. The kid prefix is reductive, though.”

“Yeah, okay. Uh. Thieves like to use Mage Hand a lot—it’s the first spell most magical rogues teach baby magical rogues they’re training.”

“I’m—I don’t wanna be a rogue.”

“That’s cool. I know wizards teach it early too! It’s just a pretty easy and useful spell, ya feel? You’re pretty short, too, so it helps reach shit. Plus, even if you don’t wanna be a rogue, it keeps you on the same page as them!”

“That’s true!”

“Yeah, man.”

She runs him through the motions of Mage Hand, and he—he seems like a pretty smart kid, but he doesn’t pick up on it. She yells at Lup over her Stone of Farspeech to come help out, but Lup doesn’t pick up. 

“Okay, let’s—let’s try Friends?”

“That’s Enchantment, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s a cantrip. Helps people like you more. Good for… interrogation, I guess, in your case?”

“I—maybe this--magic isn’t for me.”

He slumps down on the couch.

“Okay, dude, we can give up for today, if you’re tired, but we’re gonna try again tomorrow. And we’re gonna get Lup to help.”  


He perks up again, “Thank you, ma’am!”  


“I’m holding you to that. Show up whenever, call me, whatever you see fit.”  


“I’m gonna figure out where your town is tonight!”  


“You got maps in your room?”  


“Yeah!”  


“Of course. Take some of Lup’s chocolate, by the way. It’s really good. On the counter.”

“Is that allowed?”

“No, but I don’t have to tell her it was you. I steal shit from her all the time.”

“Ma’am—“

“You won’t get in trouble, Ango.”

He runs out, grabbing one tiny candy from the counter on his way.

She thinks that kid’s actually a good one, in the end.

—

Lup runs into Carey when she’s walking out of the Fantasy Costco, and Carey is looking ridiculously nervous.

“What’s up?” she asks.  


“Nothing,” says Carey, snapping back to her normal self, “I’m—I’m about to go off base. My brother’s having some kinda emergency.”

“Big ol’ bag you’ve packed.”

“Just some—some home remedies.”

Carey’s Stone of Farspeech goes off, says in a gruff, oddly familiar voice, _Okay, he says to bring it all back to the coordinates on that paper I handedyou? Dude, I promise it’ll make sense once we get there. That's--that's also what he's telling me._

“That’s his—that’s his friend.”

“Cool.”

“Yeah, bud, I got it, I’ll be there ASAP!”

“You good?”

“Yeah, just—just worried.”

“I feel that. You just—you look suspicious. Would tone that down before you have Johann—“

“Yeah, yeah, I’m just worried is all!”

“You got alcohol in that flask?”

She pulls the flask out of her belt, takes a sip, and spits it out—it’s pure black, a bit thick.

“Nasty shit,” she says, “Ugh. I need to refill this.”  


“Looks like fuckin’ pudding. How long’s it been in there?”  


She pauses, says, “Not long.”  


“Sure. Carey, if you’re doing something illegal, I won’t snitch.”  


“I know you won’t, I’m just—I’m really worried.”  


“Killian goin’ with you?”  


“I’m not out to my family, man.”  


“Oh.”  


“Yeah, gotta—gotta be careful.”  


“That’s fair, dude, your life.”

“Yeah.”

Something in Carey’s overlarge bag makes a noise.

“You animal smuggling?”  


“Maybe,” she says, like she’s genuinely unsure of the fact.  


“Shit, dude.”  


“Oh! I heard you brought the Ram and the Raven with you?”

“Yeah?”

“Can—if you see them before I get back, can you tell them that I’m, like—super cool and chill and would be a really good friend?”

“Will try?”

“They’re just—they’re really cool.”

“I—they seemed okay.”

Carey, after that, dashes off. 

Julia’s voice sounds on her Stone of Farspeech. She can respond later, whatever, Julia can wait. She’s got shit to do, right now. She’s plotting how to steal, or get Julia to steal, should she fail, that ridiculous sword in the Fantasy Costco, because aesthetically? It’s very _her._

But she’s also concerned about Carey, as much as she tries to file away that interaction into the “I don’t care,” sector of her brain. She’d been acting weird as hell. 

And she also needs to dye her hair tonight, shit. At least she has a bathtub in the new dorm, but. Can’t have that color fading. Adventuring is definitely taking a toll on her carefully curated look. She wants the best of both worlds, and gods forbid she doesn’t get that.

Julia yells into her Stone of Farspeech again.

“Fuck, I’m _on my way_ ,” she whines.  


“I don’t need you again til tomorrow. I signed you up for a co-teaching job.”  


“What.”  


“Yeah, man.”  


“Julie. How dare you?”

“You’re better at the subject than me!”

“That’s probably true, but—“

“I need help. Please?”

She can’t resist that bullshit. She probably owes Julia a favor.

“Fine,” she mumbles.  


“Thank, buddy.”

—

A desk, somewhere, has a circular area on it that lacks the dust of the desk. 

A man sees this empty spot, and he panics. 

Somewhere else, another man takes a sip of something, and he faints. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments & kudos are beloved. love you guys!  
> <3


	13. BEACH EPISODE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With little-to-no information on the Grand Relic they're hunting, the girls set off to the city of Sanche Beach, a touristy, overpriced, generally not great place. And things get worse, from there on out, believe it or not.
> 
> Lucretia meets a celebrity. Lup fights back. Julia drinks some coffee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD  
> 2\. um. here's my original arc do not steal. the setting is based on bethany beach, delaware, a delightful town in which i crashed in my rich friend's beach houses in during middle school. if you wanna look up Vibes or whatever.  
> 3\. as a warning, the girls get hurt in this chapter. just like. they get out okay. it's cool.  
> 4\. we go in-depth on a subplot i've been teasing for a little bit. which is fun.

Two months later, they finally get another mission. They’re given no information on the relic, other than that it’s associated with Enchantment magic, and that it’s made of wood. This leads to a few uncomfortable minutes, for the Captain, at least, of dick jokes, the Reclaimers helped largely by Merle. They’re to go to the beach city that Hekuba’s from. She gives them a map and a “Good luck.”

It’s a tourist trap, full of mostly rich folks—humans and elves, primarily—who buy houses there to get away from Neverwinter or wherever and carneys. Dwarven clans settle in the woodlands and the beaches a few miles outside of the main town, though the city encompasses other sections of beach itself. It’s known for bad food and overpriced stores and taverns, but it’s a fine place to take the kids, says the Captain. 

When they land, this time, nothing happens—which is odd, they usually have a monster encounter or meet some quirky character, but no. It seems like a perfectly normal city, populated by perfectly normal folks. And not in the suspiciously normal way—no, it feels like they’re vacationing or visiting a rich cousin or something. They go into a rather fancy tavern, claiming to each other that it’s for “figuring out if something’s up,” but with the intention of having a fun night out before they get into their usual nitty-gritty relic retrieval bullshit. They split up, each to engage in their own idle chit-chat with residents and to drink like it’s the end of the world. 

And that’s about where things start to go wrong.

A barfight breaks out, between two dudes for whatever reason. Lup’s playing pool, scamming people out of money and shoes. Julia steps into the fight, holds her own for a few minutes, gets knocked out with afew spells—Sleep, among others,— which leads to Lup jumping over the table to hit the dudes, dual-wielding with her pool cue and her umbrella. She gets, eventually, shoved out of the door, kicked out of the tavern. Lucretia jumps behind the bar, next to the bartender, and some VIP guest, who’s avoiding the fight. Her glasses fall off and break as she makes this maneuver—how they hadn’t broken until this point is ridiculous, she thinks, but she has other things to concern herself with.

The fight escalates. And escalates.

—

Julia gets dragged out of a back exit by someone Lucretia can’t make out, and the fancily-dressed elf behind the bar says, “What the _fuck_ was that?”

Lucretia suddenly, in a moment of clarity from her tipsy, nearly-sightless stupor, realizes who this elf is. Despite everything, she can’t resist saying, “Oh my God.”

“Yeah, I know who the fuck I am. I played here earlier. Can you tell me what the fuck just happened?”

“A barfight?”

“Nice one, Angela Lansbury, real clever, I—why did people get kidnapped out of the bar? That’s a _little_ bit shady.”

“My friend got dragged out,” she says, trying to rationalize this situation.

The bartender says, “Rooms are full for the night, ma’am, if—“

“We were going to get rooms here,” she says, and she exhales, “Can I just—can I sleep in the bar itself?”  
  
It’s not the most shameful thing she’s ever asked a bartender.

“The Suite’s gotta couch,” they say, “If, sir—sir, if you’re willing to let this woman crash.”

“You’re a _fan_ , right?” he drawls.

“I stole merch from a bank,” she says.

“Holy shit,” says the bartender.

“ _Fine._ But you _owe me_. And if you even _try_ to attack me, just know, I have the full capacity to destroy you with every ounce of arcane energy in my body.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

It’s a room.

She wakes up the next morning, and receives a glare and a cld dish of pancakes, which taste oddly familiar.

“Thank you,” she says.

“They’re leftovers.”

“Still. I’m an adventurer, I—I have a chef in my party, but we don’t often have chances to eat anything particularly wholesome.”

“Well, you’re welcome.”

“I need to find my—my two friends. They’re probably worried sick.”

“Can’t imagine having a _party_ to take care of, fuck,” he rolls his eyes.

“You had a partner, back when I saw you.”

“How long has it been since—“

“Six years.”

“Oh, fuck that guy.”

“Alright,” she says.

“Listen,” he says, “I’m heading out, so you’ll need to find another person to help you on your life-changing quest, or whatever the fuck.”

“I can pay you,” she blurts, lying, because Lup has their race winnings.

“How much?”

“Two thousand GP. I need help—“

“Where’d someone who can’t get a room in any other tavern in town than this one get two thousand?”

“Battlewagon racing.”

“Oh, I watched those when I was a kid—“

“Yes, but they’re—it was, for all intents and purposes, illegally acquired, so.”

“I don’t judge, pumpkin—“

“It’s Lucretia.”

“Yeah, whatever. You live a life of crime?”

“Not necessarily, just—just when necessary. Also, slightly related—have you seen anything weird involving—say, Enchantment, and some wood, lately?”

“Only this di—“ she glares.

“That’s trite and unappreciated. I appreciate your shenanigans—again, big fan—but, it’s a serious question.”

“I haven’t, my man, sorry.”

She ventures into the town, with Taako From TV by her side, which is entirely bizarre. He gets looks across the street, occasional points—he’s dressed fancy, in a flowy skirt, and a well-pressed shirt, overly expensive cape behind him, carried by the breeze. He looks, in her opinion, ridiculous, but she appreciates his effort to look nice.

He says, “So who’re we lookin’ for?”

“Short aasimar woman, probably stealing something or picking a fight, though she might be injured. Very tall elf woman who looks kind of… like you, actually? Lighting something on fire, potentially.”

“Cool company you’re keeping, huh?”

“They’re very good people. We’re also looking for a wooden device that uses Enchantment magic. Are you sure there have been no reports of people being—Charmed? Or just acting oddly?”

“This is only my third day in town,” he rolls his eyes.

Her Stone of Farspeech is broken. It’s been broken since Avi accidentally stepped on it at Johann’s birthday party. She assumes Lup and Julia have found each other by now.

She tries to send a message, but can’t send it—she tries this every thirty feet she walks. It never succeeds.

She begins to worry.

“Taako,” she says, suddenly realizing that he clearly has money and magic, so he must have this, “Do you have a Stone of Farspeech?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I—can I steal it, real fast?”

“Do you not have one? And you’re a fucking adventurer?”

“It broke.”

He hands her a stone, and she puts in Lup’s frequency.

“Lup, it’s Lucretia, I’m—I couldn’t find you, last night, and Julia was kidnapped—send me a sign as to where you are. Lup, I—” she stops talking.

“The fuck kinda name is Lup?”

“It suits her,” she sounds defensive.

The Stone buzzes, and statics out.

“Well, it’s never done that before,” says Taako.

—

Lup wakes up in the tavern room she rented out last night. Her bag is not next to her. This is cause for concern.

She walks up to the front desk, says, “Where’s my bag?”

“I’unno,” says the man behind the desk.

“You see someone walk into my room last night?”

“Nah.”

“Fuck!”

“You paid last night, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“You gotta get out then, if you can’t pay for another day.”

“Yeah, I—you gotta lost and found?”

“No.”

“What kinda reasonable establishment—? Look, you seen—“

“I haven’t seen shit. My shift just started.”

“Fuck you, man.”

She leaves, heads to the tavern they were at last night, looking for at least one of them. There’s police tape outside, though, so she immediately exits, heads towards the boardwalk area Hekuba had insisted they visit. She has her staff, has her hat, and has maybe a hundred GP on her. 

She can hear the ocean, see the beach, from the boardwalk, which is nice. She _does_ love the beach, when it comes down to it. She puts her legs over the side of the boardwalk, takes off her shoes, and emerges them in the sand. It’s not too hot—it’s autumn, and it’s mild outside. The smell of saltwater is almost overpowering, in a good way. And then.

Someone sits next to her. Someone with her _fucking bag._

“That bag looks familiar,” she says, gripping the Umbra Staff.

“What?” says the man—human, middle-aged, dressed far more formally than a boardwalk-goer should be.

“My bag got stolen last night, and that’s my bag.”

“This is my bag,” says the man.

“Let me check, then” she says, and she rips it out of his hand. He protests, but concedes, and he leans over.

“I found it on the street.”

“I put it on my nightstand. You broke into my fucking room.”

He’s holding a Stone of Farspeech in his hand. 

A noise pops out, “Lup it’s—“ and he crushes it.

“What the fuck?”

“Ma’am,” says the man, standing up on the boardwalk, towering over her. She considers readying a spell, “You’re coming with me.”

“What’d I _do to you_?”

“I don’t see how that’s relevant.”

“You’re dragging me by my fucking arm to gods-know-where, man, I think I—“

“You trust me, don’t you?” he says, after a hand gesture. She resists whatever the fuck he’s trying to cast on her.

“Fuck you!” 

She swings the Umbra Staff with her free hand to try and knock him down, and casts Alarm. Oddly, no one turns around—she’s screaming, now, as she’s being dragged through the city by her wrist, unable to stop no matter now much she drags her feet. She hits this man again, and again.

And then, she casts Blink. She sees those odd creatures that always show up when she casts Blink, and she squints, and they disappear.

She can hear the man panicking—good, she thinks—and she runs ten feet into a general store. She reappears, and jumps over the counter, disturbing the salesperson—

“Some guy attacked me!” she says, readying another spell.

“Yeah?” asks the salesperson, blasé, not looking at her. She has a wand in a holster on her hip.

“Uh. He was. Tall. Human? I’m bad with ages, but—forty-five, or so? Pale, gray hair. Uh. Creepy. Ring any bells?”

“Could be ninety percent of the men in town.”

“Yeah, fair—“

The salesperson turns around.

“Look,” she says, whispering—she’s young—really young. Half-elf, adolescent, “I’ll let you crash back here for now, but don’t go attackin’ that man if he comes back in. I saw him outside, and I know him. I could get thrown in jail if I hurt him.”

“What?”

“He’s real powerful in town? Lotta money. Giant dick, but he gets what he wants. Dunno how. Good on you for magicking your ass away from him. Want a novelty Sanche Beach keychain?”

“I don’t have cash.”

“Yeah, these are really shitty. We also have t-shirts.”

“No.”

Her nametag says Imani, with a heart dotting the i.

The bell rings. A woman walks in.

It’s gonna be a long day.

—

Julia wakes up on a bed. A feather bed. And she sees light from a window, smells honey in tea. Waves are crashing right outside.

She feels someone touching her left eye.

“Stay still,” says a voice, calm and collected, and she listens. She feels like she should listen, “You got beat up last night. I found you in an alley as my husband and I were walking home, and—well, my heart couldn’t stand to see you like that at all.”  


She opens her mouth, and it hurts.

“Don’t strain yourself, dear. My husband’s worked some healing magic on you, but we couldn’t get you to drink the potions without choking. Would you prefer it mixed into tea or coffee?”

“Coffee,” she groans, “No cream, two sugars.”

Her caretaker slowly stands up, says, “I’ll be right back, sweetheart.”

It’s a human woman, pale and lithe, in a long, frankly old-fashioned dress. Her eyesight is rather fucked up, right now, so she closes her eyes again to avoid feeling too much pain.

“What’s your name, doll?” asks the woman.

“Julia.”

“Beautiful name. Well, I’m Joy, my husband’s name is Wesley. This is our home”

“I need to call my friends—“

“You don’t, sweetpea, you need to rest right now. You can find your friends later.”

She thinks, yes, she can wait. Joy pours some coffee into Julia’s mouth. 

“How’s a sweet girl like you end up in an alley outside a bar?”

“I was tryin’ to break up a fight.”

“It was that bad?”

“Where’s my shit?”

“It’s upstairs, darling, please don’t swear. Are you a fighter?”

“No, a rogue,” she says. She would usually lie about that sort of thing, why was she telling the truth?

“We don’t get many mercenaries around this town.”

“There’s a dangerous item somewhere, I was sent to retrieve it.”

“Well, I’ve certainly never heard of a dangerous item in Sanche.”

“A woman from the Coralheart Clan confirmed that it wasn’t in their possession, so it’s gotta be in the city part—“

“Ugh, those Coralhearts, _so_ untrustworthy.”

“Judgemental of you.”

“But true,” she sighs.

Julia pushes herself out of bed.

“I brought clean clothes for you. I hope they fit.”

“I—I have a spare outfit in my bag.”

“If you insist,” says Joy, walking downstairs.

Julia takes this moment to readjust herself, to stand up, despite pain, and stretch. There’s something off about this house. That fight—whatever spells had hit her had hit her hard, not to mention her melee injuries. But this house. 

Joy returns before she can focus on what’s wrong. Her beach clothes—Lup had insisted on Hot Summer Looks, and Julia, frankly, couldn’t refuse that—are in Joy’s hands.

“I have armor, too.”

“You were just very badly hurt,” says Joy, “You want to go and fight again so soon?”

“I have to find—“

“Get some rest. You were near death, last night, Julia.”

“I’ve been worse! I thank you for your hospitality, but I—“

She begins getting changed. Joy turns away, but peeks back, which is rather uncomfortable.

“You have burns all over you.”

“They’re old.”

“I know adventuring can bring in money to those without other marketable skills, but—have you considered an alternate career?”

“I have other marketable skills,” she wants to be mad, to yell about how rude that thinking is, but she can’t bring herself to, “I like helping people.”

Joy’s toying with something on her finger. Julia’s vision is still a bit wrecked, so she can’t make it out, but she has an idea as to what’s wrong with this house.

“Is that your wedding ring?” she asks, assuming it’s a ring.

“Oh no, that’s on my left hand,” she holds out a ridiculously fancy diamond-laced thing, puts it back, shows ff her right hand again, “This, however? This is just a good luck charm. You believe in luck, don’t you?”

“Don’t know how somebody can’t.”

“That’s fair. I feel as though most adventurers such as yourself are plagued with bad luck. Could use my charm, huh?”

“I guess? Is that rosewood?”

Joy puts a hand to Julia’s forehead, says “Dear, you’re burning up. You’re tired—“

“I’m really not—“

“Go to sleep, Julia.”

And she does. 

She does not dream. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. so. this arc is sorta formatted as three 500-1000 word vignettes per chapter, because our gals are split up! unfortunately. but hey, we get taako. so that's fun.  
> 2\. i'm very tired  
> 3\. comments & kudos are love. i love you! <3


	14. BE APPROPRIATE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes are separated--one is lost, one is enchanted, one is possibly leading the town's teenagers to revolution, and all are pissed as hell. Now, they must face their most difficult challenge yet: a dinner party.
> 
> Julia feels pretty. Lup puts her heart into it. Lucretia is ready to fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. FIRST AND FOREMOST, a HUGE THANK YOU to @bluestonewings, who beta'd this chapter for me and also talked about how much these girls love each other in the gdoc with me. thanks, dude. love ya.  
> 2\. lucretia's crush on lup is just. real bad in this chapter. save this poor gay girl from herself.  
> 3\. it's time to sizzle! it! up!

She wakes up and it’s still light outside. The clock on the other side of the room reads three PM, so she hasn’t been asleep for long at all. She feels dizzy, out of it-- not in the hungover sense, but in the sense that she’s lost some control over herself. The relic is definitely in here somewhere. She doesn’t trust these people who are keeping her here. She descends a flight of stairs with some difficulty, and lands up in a ridiculously decorated foyer. A man, human, middle-aged, lounging on a chair, greets her and says, “Our mysterious guest has risen!”

She sighs, and assumes this is Joy’s husband. He has what appear to be talon-marks from long fingernails on his wrist--not from his own-- and he’s icing his shins. He’s clearly been up to something.

“I’m Wesley,” he says.

“Julia.”

“Lovely. I assume you’ve met my wife?”

“Yeah, she- she woke me this morning.”

“Wonderful.”

She examines his person, looking for something made of wood, a hint of the Relic.  She can’t find anything, but she also feels no wave of calm like she had felt when Joy had spoken to her earlier.

Joy enters the room, twiddling her fingers a bit, and Julia feels that wave for a moment. And her mind goes blank for another moment. 

She’s fine here, she thinks. She can wait. 

“Up so soon, sweetheart?”

“I’m hardly any younger than you,” says Julia, rolling her eyes a bit, “The babying really isn’t necessary. You’re, what, forty?”

“A lady never tells.”

“I’m- I’m thirty-three, so- ”

“A lady never tells,” Joy smiles, teeth glistening.

“We’re having a get-together tonight,” says Wesley, clearly eager to end the discussion of age, “a real who’s who of Sanche. From what I’ve been hearing, you’re quite the talented adventurer, Miss… Waxmen- am I pronouncing that right?”

“It’s two words in Common,” she says, “can’t be that difficult.”

“Oh, you know how some people are with names,” he laughs. She does not laugh back.

“What’ve you been hearing about my adventuring?”

“Well, you caught the Goldcliff Burglar!”

“I- I guess you can say I did.”

“My Wes and I live in Goldcliff, most of the time; he works for the Trust. That Raven was a real nuisance.”

“Oh.”

“Well, she’s gone now, thanks to you! Pity about the militiawoman who was assisting her, though,” Wesley sighs, “That Hurley...she was always surveying the Trust, always seemed up to no good. Don’t you agree, Julia?”

“I’ve- yes,” she doesn’t exactly process what she’s saying, “A traitor. My friends and I did steal some gold from the Trust.” 

Wesley opens and closes his mouth, looking concerned, “Well, Julia, in spite of that, we’d love for you to attend tonight. There are plenty of young bachelors interested in an outsider such as yourself-”

“I don’t really do romance,” she says, but unable to stop herself, adds, “But I’ll give them a chance!”

“Delightful.”

She gets dressed in something Joy lends her--it’s a bit small on her, and it’s very, alarmingly fancy, and she hopes she can pull it off. She covers up her shoulders--the feathers are not a good conversation starter, and she’s heard all the lines re: “did it hurt when your ancestors fell from heaven” before.

“You look beautiful,” says Joy, wistfully. Julia feels beautiful, after that—she wants Joy’s approval, though she doesn’t quite know why. She’s never been super insecure about her appearance—sure, she has scars, and she’s not as beautiful as women like her mother, or like Joy, or even like Lucretia or Lup. But before, she just relegated it to not being her Thing. She was not perfectly beautiful, like some people were not perfectly kind or perfectly funny or perfectly interesting. She was okay with that, since she’s got the other three on that list for herself. Besides, she looks fucking great most of the time anyways.

But when Joy calls her beautiful, she wants to be beautiful like this all of the time.

“I heard those kids,” Wesley grumbles the last word, “are plotting something for tonight.”

“Oh no,” says Joy, rubbing his neck with her hand that she’s always moving around, “Julia will defend us, right?”

“Of—of course,” she says, “From who?”

“These rascals. They think we’re exclusive, or something along those lines—”

“Manipulating the people,” Wesley rolls his eyes.

“You’re good, though,” says Julia, “You took me in—’

“Well, these children—they’re delinquents, frankly—’

“ _ Where  _ are their parents?” ponders Wesley.

“--they accuse us of using enchantment magics on the people.”

“How  _ ridiculous. _ ”

“You’re perfectly charming by yourselves,” she says, “don’t see why you would need magic for that.”

“Exactly, sweetpea, nail on the head!”

There’s laughing.

 

—

 

Imani’s shift ends, and Lup’s ass is tired of sitting behind a counter.

“You seem chill,” says Imani, putting a normal shirt over her work shirt, “You new in town?”

“Visiting a friend.”

“Who?”

“No one you’d--”

“I know everybody.”

“Alright, I’m in town to steal something for an employer, okay?”

“Ooh. Steal what?”

“You run a shop. You’re not concerned about theft?”

“I’m off my shift. I’m a minimum wage employee.”

“It’s an item having to do with Enchantment magic. I don’t know jackshit about it, would you?”

“I would, actually.”

“Do tell.”

She explains how a rich family--the family of the man that had attacked Lup, it turns out--had recently been charming other powerful families in town--like Charm Person, but oddly stronger, which, sets off the relic alarms in Lup’s head pretty fucking hard.

“My friends and I are gonna try and kick their asses at their monthly community get-together tonight. Snap folks out of it. The aristocracy sucks, but, like--they’re at the peak. Take them down first, then the others.”

“Okay, Revolutionary Girl Imani, you’re breaking into a house party?”

“Yes.”

“Chaotic.”

“Very much.”

“I’m into it. Fight the power, kiddo.”

“Thanks. We’re gonna raise hell.”

“Dope.”

“You wanna help?”

“Uh--sure?”

She’s introduced to Imani’s group--teenage rebels, honestly, and gods, she remembers being that young and scrappy all too well. Imani introduces her as a “Super cool wizard lady who’s willing to scout out the room.”

“I never--”

She gets a voice in her head, like the one Lucretia uses, that says,  _ Dude, be cool. _

_ You’re a warlock? _

_ The Great Old One saved my life. _

_ Okay, cool, my super good friend’s in the same boat, it’s just--unexpected. You seemed more roguish or fighterish, I guess? _

“I’ve played a rich asshole before,” Lup says, then, “I’ll go get into character.”

She gets dressed the hell up, casts some cantrips to make her umbrella match, and does a quick refresher on the personality she had given to the late Mira Last Name Redacted. She definitely, definitely wishes Lucretia were there to play off of. But alas, circumstances.

“You look like an asshole,” says some kid--half-orc, by the looks of him, and an absolute delight. 

“Yeah, I’m trying to.”

“You definitely pull it off.”

“Cool, okay, not looking for approval.”

Imani gives her directions to the swankiest part of town-- beachfront mansion properties, worth more money than Lup has ever even dreamed about having.

There’s one house all lit up, slow music playing from it. A guard asks her to identify herself and she says, “Oh, please,” and walks right past him.

The foyer of the mansion is alarmingly pristine, as though it’s never even seen dust, much less dirt. She makes idle chit chat with other guests—mostly introducing herself grandly and talking about “My  _ lover,  _ the recluse Sandsoff, and I,” going on journeys together. She takes her time eyeballing the area, observing the gilded pillars, the goddamned marble everything, the expensive art on the walls. Everyone’s dressed to the nines, and there’s exhausted-looking waitstaff scattered across the room, unspeaking.

And enter Julia.

Julia looks like the opposite of herself—hair done up, face made up, and in a dress, of all things. This is immediate cause for concern. After a moment, Lup realizes she’s unarmed while smiling blandly and talking to other guests.

She shoves and flirts and pushes her way towards her friend, and Julia’s smile widens when she notices her floundering through the crowd.

“Lup! When were you invited?”

She whispers, “I broke in, dumbass.”

“Oh, that’s—I have to kick you out, then.”

“Pardon me?”

“Well, I told the people that took me in that I’d ward off intruders, and—uh, you seem to be one, so...”

“You’re—the relic is in the people-that-took-you-in’s hands, Julie—“

“Yeah, but that’s okay! It’s nice here, Lup.”

“Is it? This doesn’t—this doesn’t seem like you.”

“I feel nice, right now.”

“Okay, if this is a joke, and you’re—oh fuck, you’re thralled, aren’t you—“

“I haven’t gotten close to the relic.”

“Where is it?”

“I’m not gonna tell you that! You’ll hurt Joy—“

“Joy, is that the host?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” she grabs Julia’s hand, and says, “Snap out of whatever the  _ fuck _ you’re doing right now.”

She squeezes Julia’s hands, full of hope, and prays to whatever gods might be listening that words can work in this situation. They had worked on Hurley, and on Gundren even, for a little bit. They’d have to work here, she thinks. She hopes. God, she hopes.

There’s a feeling in the air, of some tension going away or something, and Julia’s eyes seem to light up. Lup exhales. 

“Holy shit,” she says, “Keep me away from that relic.”

“Bad wisdom saves?” Lup questions.

“Very.”

“Fuck.”

Julia leads Lup up a flight of stairs and says, “Look, no one’s going up here tonight—stay here, out of the way.”

“And let you get charmed again?”

“Better than both of us!”

“Listen,” she says, “I—I have a group coming to wreck this party. You know where your weapons are?”

“Yeah. They’re in the basement? You know what my bag looks like.”

“Cool. Cool. I’m gonna go get those, and you stay up here. Not me.”

“Fine.”

Lup runs down the stairs, and she can hear footsteps following behind her, because of  _ course _ .

 

—

 

“Listen,” says Taako, “walking around with you aimlessly for seven _ fucking  _ hours has been great, but I got a private show to play, dear,” that last pet name said with a bit of malice.

“I’ll come with.” Lucretia says hastily, “I can cook.”

“How well?”

She considers for a moment, decides on lying, and says, “Very.”

“Okay,” he sighs, after a moment’s contemplation, “you can play. This ain’t a permanent gig, though, capiche? I work alone. No commitments!”

She nods and says, “Of course.”

The front entrance to the location of the show is blocked by teenagers, which is bizarre. One of them says, “You entertainment?”

“You here for any reasons other than being a nuisance to us?”

“We’re fighting the power.”

“Love it,” says Taako, not slowing his brisk stride, “I need to get paid so that I can survive. Don’t kill me.”

“Cool, I got that,” says the kid, “I saw your show the other night, you were really good--”

“I don’t do autographs after six PM.”

“I totally get that.”

“Are you waiting on someone?” asks Lucretia.

“This lady called Lup was gonna lookout for us, but she hasn’t said shit yet.”

Taako elbows her and says, “That’s your girlfriend, right?”

“Just--we’re just friends, right now--”

“You talk about her a lot, Lucy.” 

“Please don’t taunt me.”

“ _ You’re _ Lup’s improv partner?” says a kid, “She wouldn’t shut up about you!”

“I--I guess?” she says.

They enter a back entrance, and Taako sets up shop—the man has Prestidigitation down to an art, and he knows it. He flaunts his wand about a bit, and yells, “What is  _ u _ p, everybody!”

Lucretia sneaks off as he begins his opening monologue, some spiel about the magic of food with the occasional turn of phrase that’ll make the audience gasp. Lup’s in here, she thinks and, gods, what a coincidence.

She hits a bizarro-world version of Julia as she turns around, trying to get a feel for the room, and bizarro-world Julia says, “Oh thank fuck.”

“What—why? Do you look like that?”

“I was super enchanted. Relic’s in this joint.”

“Not a very practical look.”

“Lup’s grabbing my bag. Folks who own this place are batshit.”

Someone calls Julia’s name, and says, “Who’s your friend?”

“I’m Elaine,” says Lucretia, smoothly, “I work with the chef.”

“Oh, the Sizzle it Up! fellow,” says this person.

“Wesley,” Julia smiles, ingenuine, and Lucretia had thought ‘ingenuine’ could never apply to Julia, who, even while lying, seemed to have good intentions,  “...Elaine and I recently met on the Rockport Limited.”

“What a coincidence to run into her here,” says the man, slowly.

“Truly.”

“Indeed.”

He walks away to talk to another woman. Julia says, “Your cooking show guy is here?”

“Yes, he’s--he’s doing a soft reboot. He’s been helping me try and find you and Lup. How did--how did you end up here?”

“That dude and his wife--she’s got the relic--claims to have rescued me. I don’t think that’s true.”

“You were pretty clearly dragged out of the bar, yes.”

“Uh. So I’m gonna try and, and, make it less obvious that I’m me-- real fast, gimme a person about my size that I know?”

“Uh. Sloane.”

And a shockingly accurate replica of Sloane is now standing in front of Lucretia. Other guests, oddly enough, don’t seem to realize that Disguise Self has been cast.

“I should--I’m so fucking good at magic, Lu.”

“Mockingbird gum?” Lucretia offers, holding out a piece after digging through her bag for it.

Julia chews it, says, “Nice,” and smiles, wildly.

Just then, Lup climbs up the stairs, bag in hand, and Lucretia waves at her, happily. Lup waves back, runs up to her, and gives her a hug. Julia-as-Sloane is laughing, probably noticing the blood rushing into Lucretia’s face.

“Where’s Julia?” says Lup, breaking the hug a moment past not-entirely-awkward.

“Right here, all disguised,” the woman in question responds, “Lucretia’s cooking show guy is here.”

“For real? I wanna see this fucker—”

“The hosts are in the kitchen watching too, though, and they’re—they’re  _ super _ onto us.” Julia cautions.

“They knew I was lying about my identity.”

“Yeah, I met the man who owns this joint—not a fan,” says Lup.

“No, he’s deffo super creepy. His shins were basically broken earlier, though,” Julia responds.

“Nice.”

“Was that you?” Julia asks, smiling, almost proudly.

“He grabbed me.”

Lucretia’s fist curls up into a ball. She breathes deeply, trying to calm herself. She knows that they’ll take this man down, but she can’t help but getting angry about it. “Did he harm you?”

“Emotionally, I guess? I got away.”

“Good. I’ll make sure no one has to get away from him ever again,” Lucretia snarls. 

“Lucretia, holy shit,” says Julia, looking at her oddly, “I mean, I’m down, ‘cause the dude and his wife literally hypnotized me, but—“

“I’m going to kick his ass.”

They walk into the show, and it’s just in time for Lucretia’s favorite part—the intermission fireworks show. Entirely unnecessary, but aesthetically very nice. She appreciates the effort.

“He really does look a lot like a dude version of you, Lup,” blurts Julia, “Lucretia, is there, like, a psychosexu—“

“Don’t finish that sentence,” says Lucretia, glaring, probably more than she should.

“I don’t see the resemblance,” Lup adds, tilting her head, “At all.”

Julia points out the hosts, sitting front and center.

Lucretia approaches them faster than she’s approached anyone before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. i have my spanish final tomorrow. kill me dead.  
> 2\. comments and kudos fucking. fuel me. will help me survive said spanish final.  
> 3\. i love you!


	15. TWO EX MACHINA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get wet and wild at the dinner party from hell as this arc comes to a close! That's right, folks, we're donezo.
> 
> Lucretia involves herself in the hackneyed trope she fears the most. Julia puts them out of their misery. Lup is smooth as hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. you know how i said there'd be smoochin in this fic back in the original notes? ya.  
> 2\. thanks again to my delightful beta, @bluestonewings, who stopped this chapter from being unreadable stream-of-consciousness soup.  
> 3\. Merle Smokes Weed And We All Know It And If You're Still Not Sure It's Time To Wake Up America

Lucretia is, for all intents and purposes, the least confrontational person in the world. When she is confrontational, bad things happen to her and to those she cares about. That has been her experience, at least. But she’s past thinking about experience right now. She can’t stand to see people she cares about in danger.

She sees the woman who’s hosting the event fidget with something on her hand and feels a wave of something hit her. She’s almost overpowered by it, but pushes past it.Lup and Julia are a few feet behind her, concerned looks on their faces, as she approaches the couple, armed with a wine glass and a few readied spells. She goes for the woman first, sits next to her and says, “Ma’am, are you enjoying the show? I work with Taako, and—”

“I would prefer if you didn’t speak over it,” the woman interrupts, sugar-sweet.

Julia is behind Lucretia, with a grip on her shoulder. Taako has stopped talking, for once, and is staring at her, silently supportive. She stares back, and then steels herself and starts up again.

“Uh, sir, actually,” she says, turning to the man next to Joy, “may I speak to you privately? I have a security concern.”

“What? You should—we hired security guards.”

“That’s the issue.”

“Oh my,” says the man, genuinely surprised, “Where shall we—”

“How about,” she concentrates, “a hundred feet outside the front entrance?”

And they’re gone. She’s just now getting good at casting Dimension Door, but she really should have focused on it earlier. It’s very useful for the situation at hand. 

It’s colder outside. The teenagers who had stopped her earlier are gone, perhaps scared off by Lup’s disappearance.

“Is this, somehow, your concern?” asks the man, raising an eyebrow, unperturbed. 

In lieu of a response, she smashes her wine glass in his face, cut glass adding several cuts to his face. In shock, he doesn’t do anything and just freezes. Three people—Julia, Lup, and Joy—have chased them outside.

Julia yells, “You can’t just—keep on teleporting, dude! At least warn me!”

Wesley, now recovered, throws a Fire Bolt towards Julia and Lup, just missing Joy, and Julia’s disguise falters, in a clear loss of concentration. Joy, meanwhile, makes a movement to attack, but Lup has already stepped ahead, throwing the tiny tent that holds her pocket spa back to Julia. 

Lucretia stops focusing on those two, though, and instead focuses on the task at hand--that being, of course, to absolutely destroy this man. But regardless, her team needs her. She assumes she’ll regret wasting it later, but she casts Banishment on the man so as to be rid of him, if only for a moment. She rushes over to join her party. 

Julia has grabbed her sword out of the Pocket Spa and is en garde; Meanwhile, Lup is using her umbrella to defend herself from whatever Joy might throw at her. Lucretia, however, is less prepared, and when she feels Joy’ touch on her shoulder, she goes weak from energy leaving her body. 

Joy smiles without any hint of kindness and says, “You looked like you were having so much fun.”

Julia strikes the woman with her sword, narrowly missing Lucretia’s arm, slicing Joy across the chest. She grasps her stomach, clearly in pain, and Lup casts Magic Missile, four bolts of bright light forcing her backwards. Blood starts to stain her expensive-looking gown, almost as if she had spilled her wine, as well as the wine of several other guests on it.

Lucretia readies Crown of Madness, just to make things a bit easier, but the woman touches her brown ring again--the relic, clearly--and says, “Julia, I just don’t know why you let these horrible people just pressure you into hurting others.”

Julia goes still, feeling a familiar wave of pressure cloud her mind. But this time, she focuses on her friends and pushes back, hard. Her head clears, and she takes one hand off of her sword.

“Fuck you,” she says, and casts Witch Bolt at the woman, bloodying her.

Lucretia throws a quick Eldritch Blast in, and finishes the job. Joy lies dead on the ground. Lucretia rips the relic off of her finger, and the relic, as it seems these items are wont to do, speaks to her.

“You wanna be loved?” it asks, sweet and soft, chilling, “If you use me, everyone will love you.”

“I have enough people, thank you,” she says, and looks at her team. It’s a bit hackneyed and overly-sentimental, but, despite herself, she truly means it. She carefully tucks away the ring in Julia’s bag. 

Banishment wears off about then, and Wesley pops back into the plane and approaches his wife’s corpse, glaring daggers. He closes in on the three of them, and they prepare for another fight, when, he’s blasted to the side by a Ray of Frost, which streaks over Lucretia’s head in an icy arc, making her shiver.

It’s Taako. From TV.

“What the fuck?” he asks, bypassing all introductions.

“Thank you?” says Julia, turning around to check on their opponent. The man is on the ground, but still conscious. 

“They apparently weren’t gonna pay me,” the chef shrugs, “This is personal beef, compadre, I’m not doing this to help you.”

“Sure,” says Lucretia, “This is my party. Lup, Taako; Taako, Lup ‘n Julia.”

“Hi,” says Julia.

“I really, honestly thought Lucretia made your show up to mess with me,” says Lup, “She’s a big fan.”

There’s a noise behind her, and she turns to throw an Acid Arrow at Wesley, who jumps back again, but then continues running towards the four of them. He charges Lucretia, who tries to elbow him in the face but gets caught in his grasp. For a man of his stature, he seems ridiculously strong. She struggles, but unarmed, she can only do so much.

—

Julia has her sword in her hand, the relic that’s been fucking with her in her bag, and she’s running on pure adrenaline, so all in all, she’s good in this moment. Lucretia's in a chokehold, though, and Wesley doesn’t seem to be letting her go any time soon, so she’s also not so good right now.

“I’ll hit her if I cast,” she says, “or if I use a weapon. I can try and Charm him, but I think he’d get past it.” She’s going over all of the options of how to save Lucretia in her head, weighing the pros and cons of rushing in, but she is absolutely sure that she wants to kill this man for hurting not just her, but the two people she trusts more than anyone else alive.

“All I have left is burning shit. I can spell sculpt, but--”

“Fucking do it,” she says.

Lup casts a spell Julia’s never seen her use before--Fireball, maybe?--at the man, carefully sculpting it in midair, as if it were clay, to hit wherever Lucretia is not. 

Controlled. 

Julia exhales. 

The man drops Lucretia, who, once on the ground, swiftly kicks him over, and runs back over to the rest of them. Julia digs through the Pocket Spa, pulls out Lucretia’s quarterstaff, and throws it at her.

Wesley snarls as he crawls to his feet, and starts running at them again. All of a sudden, , he keels over, flanding face-first on the cobblestone. 

An adolescent half-elf lowers her crossbow behind him, waves, and says, “Hi, Lup!”

Julia stabs Wesley in his injured, pathetic state, and cuts his suffering short. 

“Nice,” says Lucretia’s Cooking Show Guy.

“Thanks, man.”

“Imani,” Lup says to the crossbow-kid, “I told you to stay out of trouble till I gave you a sign?”

“You didn’t give me one and I got bored, so I improvised.”

“So, how do we break this double murder to the guests?”

“The relic had ‘em all thralled,” says Julia, “They’re probably super confused right now.”

She pulls it out of her bag and examines it. It’s rosewood, ornately carved with small feather designs and, in the center, a rose. Could be a wedding ring, she thinks. It looks familiar, in the way most of these relics look familiar—in some, odd corner of her mind, she feels warm, holding it. 

“Why’re you talkin’ in static, my man?” Lucretia’s Cooking Show Guy asks, snapping her out of whatever daze she’s in.

“Yeah, you’re kinda fuzzy,” adds the teenager.

She says, “It’s a—I’m part android.”

“Good save,” says Lup, as Lucretia stifles a laugh.

“I don’t--look, I don’t need convoluted fucking plot devices interfering in my life, I am good out here. If your static talk is gonna lead me down a grand mystery or some bullshit? I refuse. You hear me? Listen, I want no part in your life-changing quest. No explanation needed.”

Gods, he even talks like Lup, a little bit, she thinks. Maybe they’re distant cousins, or something? Julia had taken deliveries to New Elfington, where she knows Lup is from, when she was a teenager, but she hadn’t noticed a particular dialect or anything. Weird.

“Hekuba said we should check out the beach before we leave,” says Lup, after a few moments of awkward silence, “Imani, can you take us there?”

“Sure? I’m real worried about your static talk, though.”

“It’s a job security thing. Uh, Cooking show guy, you coming?”

He sighs, dramatically, and says, “Fine.” 

The teenager leads them for what seems like an hour—Lucretia insists that it’s only fifteen minutes—until they find themselves on an empty beach. There’s no sign of any other humanoid life there. It’s serene, in a way that absolutely nothing has been since Gundren.

“Mind if I start a campfire?” asks Lup to everyone.

Julia nods, and smiles. Lup has control. She thinks of that often, nowadays.

Cooking Show Guy begins to levitate, claiming he’s, “Avoiding sand in general, lately, thanks,” and, “Hey, Lucy, you said you’d pay me to help you out.”

“Lup, how much do you have on you? We’ll get paid as soon as we return.”

“Nineteen hundred on me. Got two thousand in the room.”

“Give him half,” Lucretia says. Julia stares at her, a bit angry at the sacrifice of their money to pay some man that hardly helped them. 

“Do I get money?” asks the kid.

“I thought you were against money, like, conceptually,” Lup does a half-assed impersonation of the girl.

“I still need it!”

“Taako, she’s—she’s very young. And impressive.”

“Two hundred,” he concedes.

“Three hundred,” Imani replies, smug.

Taako glares, “One fifty, or I walk.”

“Deal.”

—

Lup peeks over Lucretia’s shoulder--it’s still early evening and they’ve agreed to go back at midnight. Julia is off talking to Imani about revolution as a concept--they’re apparently kindred souls in that aspect, or some bullshit like that. Taako the cooking show guy is off smoking, and part of her wants to join him—Merle was the only person on the moon who grew anything, and while she’s a big fan of getting fucked up, she thinks his stuff might be a bit too weird for her. Or anyone. So she hasn’t smoked in literal months, and it’s messing her up a little bit.

But instead, she sits next to Lucretia, who’s reading the damn journal again, annotating it or something.

Or not annotating, but sketching, on one of the blank pages.

“S’good,” she says, peering over her shoulder, and Lucretia snaps the book shut.

“I--”

“Lucretia,” she says, “Cretia. It’s really good.”

“Thanks, I guess? Just--just sketching the scene. This one, right now, right here, on this beach. It has--feelings.”

“Got a word for the feelings?”

“Nostalgic, but it doesn’t feel right.”

“Nah, I--I get that. Déjà vu all over again, yeah?”

“That exactly.”

“You wanna go smoke with the T-Man?”

“He’s tired of me right now.”

“Well, that’s fuckin’ terrible of him.”

“No, I dragged him across the city for seven hours and didn’t pay him anything close to the full amount I promised him.”

“Oh.”

“I did my best to impress him, but alas,” she sighs, “If you want to--”

“Nah, I wanna stay here with you, Cre.”

“That one’s new.”

“One syllable.”

“Didn’t go with the obvious Luc, which is--nice.”

“Nuh-uh,” she smiles, “Too similar to my whole brand. Can’t have confusion there”

Lucretia laughs, for a while, longer than she usually laughs, and it’s not really banter worthy of that much laughter, but Lup will absolutely take it.

“You have a really nice smile,” she adds, because Lucretia really does. Lucretia is the owner of the nicest smile in the universe, probably, and Lup’s seen a lot of beautiful smiles in her time. Its rarity is part of why it’s so damn nice. But that’s beside the point.

Lucretia continues sketching, adding in tiny details that Lup wouldn’t even notice otherwise--freckles on Julia’s arms, individual grains of sand, tiny bits of seafoam.

Her hand cramps, and she says, “Ah, shit!” and drops her pen into the sand.

“You good?”

“I--I used to be ambidextrous, but I lost it a few years back. My left hand’s all shaky when I write, now, and I’m not done yet--”

“It’s pretty close, though.”

“It has to be perfect.”

Lup puts her arm around Lucretia’s shoulder, says, “Nah, it doesn’t.”

She hugs Lucretia tight, knows what the fuck she’s doing to this poor girl, and loves it. 

And Lucretia, unlike herself, moves in close to Lup, and, well, it’s a damn nice kiss if there ever was one. No fireworks, no swelling score, but a damn nice kiss nonetheless.

“Cute,” says Taako, “I’m ditching this joint. Nice knowing ya.” 

He walks off.

Imani says, “Yeah, I’m--I’m gonna head home. I got work in the morning, plus, more folks to take down.”

“Fight that power, kid.”

“I will, Lup, thanks.”

As Imani sets off, Lup grabs Lucretia’s hand, and Julia smiles.

“What’s next?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. comments & kudos bring me 2 life  
> 2\. i love you guys who comment so dang much.  
> 3\. im gay  
> 4\.   
> my beta: are you telling me lup was being to fucking gay to notice the major plot point staring at her in the fuckin face  
> me: thats just how liking girls is sometimes


	16. A VERY SPECIAL EPISODE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Candlenights! And you know what that means: it's time for an office holiday party.
> 
> Lucretia is wary of a certain boy detective. Julia makes some major progress on facing her fears. Lup doesn't want to go on a mission.
> 
> Carey and Killian are in love. Merle is feeling a bit left out. Davenport is stressed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. CRYSTAL KINGDOM TIME. anyways. here's the office candlenights party episode. sorry boyland.  
> 2\. hurley and sloane will straight up buy out all of the weapons from the fantasy costco.  
> 3\. this chapter's unedited!  
> 4\. this chapter 90% ladies lovin ladies. somethin about that candlenights spirit invokes lesbians.  
> 5\. enjoy!

When the Captain disposes of the Relic, he looks at it closely for a moment and he almost seems to smile. 

Then he says, “So it--so it made you trust people?”

“Uh, yeah,” says Julia, “I knew something was up with them, but it was like something was holding me back from doing anything bad to them, cuz no matter what, they always seemed. Charming. I don’t know.” 

“It was used on a pretty fuckin’ wide scale, considering that there was a whole fucking dinner party of folks under their spell.”

The Captain grips the overlarge oak staff a bit tighter than normal, and he shakes his head, says, “The relics were forged out of something more powerful than any other force--it’s an interesting process, scientifically, but, it’s also--it’s horrifying.”

She wants to ask him how he knew that, and she regrets not doing so. 

But, by the end of the week, Lucretia isn’t worried about the mystery of the Red Robes, because she’s Candlenights shopping. She doesn’t often consider herself “hardcore,” in the way Lup often describes herself, (“Cretia. Cretia. I am the dopest motherfucking being on the planet,” she’ll say, and Julia will spit out her drink, and Lucretia will say, “Sure.”), but Lucretia does go absolutely wild during Candlenights. She remembers that she and her sisters would always compete, as children, for who could get the best present for their parents—Lucretia would always lose, but it readied her to be the greatest gift-giver in the planar system as an adult. 

Garfield the Deals Warlock comments on the sheer amount of wrapping paper she’s buying, and hints that some of the wrapping paper (only some), is made of human skin. She ignores him, which is, from her experience, the best way to go about interacting with Garfield. 

Julia insists upon hosting the Bureau’s unofficial party in the room they share, which Lup and Lucretia resent, because it means cleaning up, which, for the three of them, is not exactly a strength. 

But they, as they do most things, do it well, and with flair. Lup casts Dancing Lights to get some ideal ambiance going, the three of them cook up some snacks—Merle promises to supply food as well, as does Avi—this effectively means bad salad and spiked baked goods. They absolutely need the latter, but the former might ruin the whole operation. 

Angus shows up early—not that the boy isn’t usually around the dorm anyway, as Lup and Julia have taken a liking to him. He, frankly, is too similar to Lucretia to develop some kind of older-sibling-slash-parent type of bond. Not that she dislikes Angus—quite the opposite. She, as embarrassing as it may be, envies Angus’ ability to gain the trust of others so quickly. He brings a few tiny boxes, wrapped with maybe seventeen layers of paper.

“For you, ma’am!” he says, and smiles, tossing her a gift that is approximately paperback-sized. 

 “Thank you,” she says, and she doesn’t open it.

“How’s the magic, little man?” asks Lup, from her spot on the couch.

He squints at his hands, casting Prestidigitation and shooting blue sparks out of his hand.

“Nice!” shouts Julia, “You got Mage Hand, yet?” 

“I can get three fingers, now!”

“You’re getting there!” She casts a Mage Hand of her own and ruffles his hair with it. 

“Ma’ams, are you going to open your gifts?”

“How about when everybody else gets here?”

The Captain, Merle (carrying some strange vegetable loaf) behind him, enter immediately after that, and Hurley and Sloane soon follow. Hekuba and her daughter arrive, Sit down on some of the cushions laid out politely. Killian, Carey, Johann, Avi, and Noelle all show up late, presumably finishing up working or training Killian is still in workout clothes. 

“So,” says Lucretia, looking around at all of the people in the room, “It’s Candlenights.”

“It’s Candlenights,” respond a few others. 

“Y’all want gifts?” Lup asks the crowd, and there’s scattered, ‘whaddya think’s and ‘yeah’s. 

“Okay, we’re goin’ alphabetical, so. Ango. Distribute,” says Julia. 

Everyone gets their own copy of a different Caleb Cleveland: Kid Cop book, and Lucretia smiles as kindly as she can. She does wonder what inspired the boy to go into detective work, though she has her own doubts about the series’ depth. 

Avi hands everyone tiny, personalized devices--Lucretia gets a pen that refills itself with Conjuration magic, which she will definitely use every goddamned second of her life. Carey hands everyone tiny wooden carvings, and hands Killian a puzzle box with a ring inside. There are some gasps, there’s a kiss, and there’s quite a bit of fanfare. 

“So is it--”

“Yeah, dude!” 

Noelle and Julia are audibly crying and yelling with joy. 

Lucretia gives them a hearty “Congrats,” and pats them on their backs, while Lup teases them, gives Lucretia a kiss on the cheek.

 

\--

 

Julia’s a little mad that she needed Avi and Lup to help her with her gifts, but she wanted to give everyone something with thought in it. She’s really into symbolism, and since, for all intents and purposes, she has a family again--Lucretia and Lup would never let her live that down if she said that out loud--she decides to make them symbolic of her old one. 

But symbols are gonna involve fire, because metal needs to melt somehow. Which means she’s gonna need help.

(“Are you sure you got this, my man?” 

“Gotta face my fears somehow,” she says, clutching her new hammer, which she’d traded Garfield some more blood for, for dear life, “Plus, gifts from the heart. Y’know?”

“Corny ass.”

“Asshole.”

Lup sets a fire, Julia thinks about control.

She takes her tools, breathes in deep, and lets muscle memory kick in.)

She’s wrapping the scarf Hekuba knitted her--mahogany and soft in a way that makes her feel at peace--but claims Mavis made around her neck, when she says, “Uh, so. Mine’s kinda like Carey’s. But I’m not proposing to any of you.”

“I’m next, actually,” says Hurley.

“She’s already started her speech,” says Noelle, “Alphabetical’s not so important.”

“Fine,” Hurley crosses her arms and Sloane pats her head, gentle.

“So, uh. I made little. Metal trinkets? My dad was a blacksmith, and so was I, I guess, until a point, so--”

“You made a model of my fucking hat?” yells Lup.

 “It’s a really bad hat, and I’m never letting you forget that it’s become part of your brand.”

 “Ironically, Julia, good gods. Fuck.” 

A small violin model for Johann. A wrench for Avi. A magnifying glass for Angus. A quill for Lucretia. The symbol of the Bureau for the Captain. A ram and a raven for Hurley and Sloane. A symbol of Pan for Mavis and Hekuba. A branch for Merle. A tiny duck for Killian. The Thieves’ Cant symbol for “friend” for Carey. And, for Noelle, a decently accurate model of a house. 

“Use it as a paperweight, or whatever.” 

“Shit, they’re so detailed,” says Killian, “How do you get the feathers to look like real feathers?”

“Practice, mostly, but I also got quick hands. I could teach you, maybe?" 

“I’d love that!”

Julia regrets the offer, because that means doing this again, and it was, while almost therapeutic, kind of draining. But maybe teaching Killian how to do this could help her too, so, she’ll commit. She’ll do this, and she’ll get better, because it’s been twelve goddamned years since what happened. 

Hurley and Sloane hand out gifts as a couple, which is very sweet. What’s slightly less sweet is that they give out weapons as gifts. But Julia digs it. An ex-girlfriend of hers gave her her sword, and this new one is equally nice, if not nicer.

The Captain says, “This might--I’m not sure about this, vis-a-vis workplace ethics?”

“It is a nice-ass dagger, though, Cap’nport,” says Julia, and he shuts up instantly. 

“Fun nickname,” he says, after a moment, “Portmanteau! Big fan of that." 

“I thought so.”

“An enigma,” mutters Lucretia, “You confound me.”

Julia agrees.

 

\--

 

Lup is almost passed out by early evening, which is upsetting to her, because before she took this fucking job, she was partying one hundred percent of the time. Her macarons had been a hit, especially to Lucretia--elderflower, for her, Merle and Hekuba had both told her when she was bouncing flavors off of folks that it represented divinity and protection, and if that isn’t romantic--who had sworn profusely with shock at the taste. Good shock. 

“Hot diggity shit,” she repeats, and Lucretia elbows her, laughsa 

“It was a spur of the moment word choice.”

“I know, it was great.”

Julia, laying on the couch, says, “We’re finally rubbing off on her. Re: speech patterns. Hell yeah.” 

“She said booyah in the cave,” Carey yawns, “It ain’t you.”

The Captain, who had left several hours previously to attend to some business, rushes back into the door, says, “Reclaimers, Regulators, need all of you. My office. Now.” 

“Now?” Noelle whines. 

“Yes, Noelle, now. Maureen Miller has acquired and begun to abuse a relic.”

“One fucking holiday,” says Lup, balling her fist, “Y’all pass out at Midsummer and fucking. Aliens stare down at us.”

“Merle,” says the Captain, “Boyland’s out with his family for the holiday. You’re a gifted healer--”

“He’s not,” says Hekuba, across the room, “Bastard.” 

“Mom,” says Mavis, “Please don’t swear.”

“Hekuba, do you volunteer, then?”

“I got this one," she pats her daughter's shoulder, "And also, Maureen and I have issues.”

“Thought so. You six. Make sure he doesn’t kill himself.”

“Maureen The Hot Scientist,” says Killian, “She’s mishandling a relic?” 

Lucretia is clearly nodding as if to second Killian’s question.

“Gather your things, meet me in my office in ten.” 

As those not questing exit to get back to their personal jobs, the seven people selected for the mission all launch into their own complaints. 

“Y’know, I was gonna have a date with Nkemdilim the Seeker tomorrow night,” says Julia, “We were gonna go to the Chug-n-Squeeze?”

“She’s cute,” says Lup, absentmindedly shoving shit into her bag, “That’s the fuckin’... wine and pottery place, yeah?” 

“Yup.”

“Oh, Kill and I had a date there. Good vibes.” 

“I’m tryin’ to get back in the game, but no, the fucking world’s ending.” 

“I’m not--I’m not a part of this dynamic at all,” says Merle.

 Killian grabs his shoulder, says, “Aw, Highchurch, we’ll include you in our chats, yeah folks?”

There’s halfhearted “yeahs,” from everyone else.

“Once more, with feeling.” 

“Yeah.” 

“There we go.”

When they’re packed, they meet the Captain, who starts going on and on about the Philosopher’s Stone and Transmutation and all that bullshit. She usually can rely on context clues to figure out what she misses when she tunes out.

“Would’ve been nice if we’d recruited the chef,” whispers Lup, and Lucretia laughs.

“What?” asks the Captain. 

“Inside joke,” says Lucretia, and looks down at the ground.

“Killian, Carey, Noelle. The three of you are to apprehend Dr. Miller and bring her to me. You three,” he points to them, “Secure the relic. Merle, keep them healthy? Don’t get yourself killed.” 

“Can’t promise anything.” 

He sighs.

“You’ll need null suits--they--they’re a technology developed by, well, Dr. Miller, ironically, to prevent you from being hit with harmful materials, like this crystal that might devour the planet.”

“Can I get one for my fish?”

“Sure ,just--”

“Good.”

The Captain says, “The Philosopher’s Stone was created by an extremely gifted arcanist. It has hidden depths that you couldn’t even believe--” 

“The first relic we secured literally burned down an entire town. Like, I get what you’re saying, but--we can believe a lot of shit,” says Lup, “How ‘gifted’ was that arcanist?” 

She doesn’t like thinking about the Gauntlet, but it needs to be said. 

With a shocking amount of honesty, “Probably among the most gifted of her age.” 

Hekuba tosses them suits--some shade of red-- and Lup throws her dumb fucking hat on top of it, just to taunt Julia for mocking her earlier.

“It’s a long ride down to the lab. If you need rest, get it in the cannonball. And all of you?” 

“Yeah?” asks Lup.

“Stay alive for me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CUTSCENE TO CAREY'S ADVENTURES IN STEALING SHIT FOR MAGNUS AND KRAVITZ:
> 
> CAREY:  
> Look, man. I don't work for free.
> 
> MAGNUS:  
> I'm literally legally dead.
> 
> CAREY:  
> You got any special artsy skills? I need a Candlenights present for somebody.
> 
> MAGNUS:  
> I can help you with carpentry stuff? I don't know. I'd like to know who I'm working on a gift for--
> 
> CAREY:  
> She's...big.  
> [beat]  
> It's my girlfriend.
> 
> [CUE THE CAREY/MAGNUS CARPENTRY MONTAGE FROM CANON, THEY HIGH-FIVE AT THE END AND FREEZE-FRAME, cut back to the present]
> 
> comments and kudos bring me bundles of joy.


	17. HONEY, I SHRUNK MYSELF

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team goes to a lab, and boy howdy, if this isn't some weird endless labyrinth, well, they'd be pretty surprised.
> 
> Lucretia is done with elevators. Julia loves people. Lup is bad at quiz shows!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. sorry for the delay in getting this up! you know how the end of the year can be for students. i get out next week, but then i have gotv and podcast editing to do! so, yikes!  
> 2\. thanks again to my beta! @bluestonewings. hell yeah  
> 3\. one of my notes on the google doc for this chapter is gonna serve as your preview:  
> "lucretia just dealt [SPOILER fucking CHARACTER] 42 points of damage and i do not know what the fuck else i expected to happen in this fic"  
> 4\. i love you!

They land in the lab with a thud, and they get out of the cannonball with relative ease, as compared to Merle and the Regulator team, who need to have their ball shot through by Noelle, which, in fairness, is a pretty dope move, thinks Lup. 

Hekuba chimes in through the messaging system on the null suits and says, “Uh, just so y’all know, you have about forty minutes to get this done. Fantasy Jack Bauer style, and all that? Captain is relying on you seven to solve this problem. If we have any major updates from the moonbase, I’ll be keeping you posted. Message me or any Seeker if you need anything, okay? Well, any Seeker except for Wisteria, Mylene, or Greg. They’re off base. Anybody else is okay.” 

Everything around her is crystal--pink tourmaline, maybe? The room looks like it used to be a garden of some sort, crystallized trees and bushes everywhere. It’s pretty, if kind of tacky. Definitely could be a weird art installation, somewhere, the type Lup would serve at and then sneak into for the free drinks. 

Non-functioning tourmaline robots seem to be middle of tending to the gardens, and Noelle is poking around at them, saying, “We should split up.”  
  
“That’s--that might not be the safest mode of action.” 

“No, we should split up. I have some healin’ spells for my team, which I don’t think the Cap realized, but--”   
  
“And you’re sticking us with Merle,” says Lucretia, “We  _ do _ have a lot of ground to cover, from the looks of this place. I only saw one door--”

“Sticking with me ain’t a--I’m good company!”   
  
“So we’ll split at a fork,” says Lup, ignoring Merle, “hit as many rooms as we can.”   
  
“Maureen’s in the medbay,” says Julia, “Which is--it’s in the center of this joint? So we gotta keep track of doors and shit. Keep in touch.”   
  
They’re planning this whole thing out when a noise--a song--begins to play, like it’s resonating from the crystals. Synthetic sounding.

_ Pulled from my home and from the light / Lost in the dark, I’m there alone / Now I've come back beyond the shroud / Ever to rule upon my throne / Here in my Crystal Kingdom. _

Lucretia is scribbling down the notes of the song into a notebook that seems to pop out of nowhere, then furiously demanding that everyone give her the next lyric, until she has it all down. 

“When something as foreboding as a song about rising from the dead happens, I feel it’s important to remember most details about it, yes? And that was a one sharp key sig?” 

“One sharp, yeah,” says Carey, “Three-four for a little bit, then into four-four.”

“Thank you.”

“No prob.”

“We don’t know for sure that it was about rising from the dead,” says Killian. 

“Felt a little grim,” Lucretia shrugs.

And then, it’s like there’s a rip in midair, a shimmering, wavering gash of space and stars--planar rift, Lup’s mind supplies, even though she almost definitely never heard that phrase before in her goddamned life. Spikes of crystal rise from the ground, and shards of sharp rock shoot at the seven of them. She and Lucretia, as well as the Regulators, deftly dodge all of them, but one hits Julia in the leg, and three of them hit Merle on the chest. The shards don’t pierce the null suits, but they appear to hurt those hit nonetheless.

The shards form into some sort of tall creature, made entirely of floating crystals. Julia hastily yells, “Hail and well met!” 

“Sup!” adds Lup, for further proof that they’re not trying to fight this thing, regardless of Killian’s drawn crossbow and Merle’s warhammer. 

Except Lucretia has already cast Blight at it, knocking it back significantly.

Merle casts a spell, something Lup’s never seen, and a large, angelic figure bursts out, as if to guard him. She appears to be fifteen-foot tall elderly human woman, wielding a sword made of some heavenly light. Julia is looking up at it in awe, clapping. 

“She’s beautiful!”

“Her name’s Della,” he says, proudly, “My Guardian of Faith.”   
  
“Whoever your god is, they’re pretty fucking incredible.”   
  
“Oh, yeah, definitely.”

The creature throws more shards, once again missing Lup, this time hitting Lucretia.

Lup, almost instinctively, shoots off Fire Bolt at the creature, aiming at its head. It hits, nowhere near as hard as Lucretia’s spell, but damaging the thing regardless. 

Julia says, “We can run.”

Carey nods, and the two of them manage to herd everyone else towards the doorway out. As they run, Noelle shoots the crystal golem straight through its chest, and Merle’s guardian angel slices its legs with a radiant sword. Lup can hear crystals shattering as she exits, and sees the creature collapse into shards through the crack in the door.

Maureen’s voice blasts through the null suit. 

“What happened in there? I heard--I heard fighting--”   
  
“A fucking golem came out of midair,” says Killian, audibly distressed, “tried to kill us.”

“Look, there’s an airlock ahead, I have to channel energy to get you through, but it’ll buy you some time once I shut the thing down.”

They rush through the airlock, and there’s the fork they were waiting for. In one direction, Research; in the other, The Magical World of Elevators.

“Elevators,” says Merle, “We’re taking elevators.” 

“Research might--”

“Elevators is an easier way to the medbay,” says Maureen, “My father--he actually invented the elevator.”

“He push you into the science biz?” asks Julia. 

“I suppose,” she says, “Though--I feel overshadowed, from time to time--”

“Elevator manufacturing is sort of up and down, anyway,” says Merle. Lup high fives him. 

They bid the Regulators farewell, and set off into the elevator museum.

“I’m calling a Seeker,” says Julia, “Gonna try and learn some facts about the golem. Angus?”

Angus’ voice is projected into all of their null suits, says, “Hi! What’s up?”

“Uh, Angus, can the Philosopher’s Stone, like--animate shit? Can it, say, make a deadly monster that attacks folks unprovoked even when they’ve done nothing wrong.”   
  
“I don’t think so?”   
  
“Okay, cool. cool, other nefarious forces in play, dope. Love it. Thanks Angus! Love you.”   
  
“Love you too!”

“Gross,” says Merle. 

“He’s a--he’s a sweet kid, Merle, I can say I love him.”   
  


“Whatever,” Merle rolls his eyes.

They examine the hall before them--Lup has seen quite a few elevators in her life, but never so many as she does right now. She walks down until she finds the most horrifying, gruesome model in the room--the character, Upsy--it looks like it’s made of flesh, which makes her gag, a bit.

There’s one more elevator, very fancy and covered in bright lights, with a tiny, but painstakingly detailed model of Neverwinter on top of it. 

Maureen chimes in, “Oh, that’s in demo mode, I think, uh--my--someone very dear to me made that, it’s the Elevator of Tomorrow. It takes up a lot of energy, so if you--If you run through the demo, uh, I’ll cut down significantly on the power being used.”

“I’m down,” says Julia, and Lup climbs in with her. 

“No,” says Lucretia, “I was cut up pretty badly the last time I went into an unfamiliar elevator. So. No. Not today.”

“I’ll keep her company,” says Merle, “I brought ginkgo tea in bags in my bag, if you got hot water.”   
  
“We might die if we take off our suits, Merle,” says Lucretia, “I--I hope you realize that there’s a nonzero chance of death.”

“Aw.”

“Fine, have fun, I  _ guess, _ ” says Julia, “Lup and I are exploring the  _ future.” _

“Fuck yes.”

“The elevator of  _ tomorrow,  _ Lucretia.”

“ _ Tomorrow _ , babe.”

“I’m--I’m not doing anything that’s not necessary.”

“That’s fair and I understand entirely,” says Julia, “Okay, cool, future exploring time, _bye_ ,” with a dragged out “e." 

The two of them board the elevator and go up, and the ride seems to last longer than it should. 

And then, they’re in Neverwinter. Or, perhaps, a much larger model than previously seen. 

“Neat,” says Julia, “Uh--shrink ray? Maybe?”  
  
Lucretia and Merle, looking like giants, are laughing at them. Merle is pointing. 

Lup mouths, “Fuck you guys,” but presumably they can’t see her mouth, because she’s fucking microscopic, now.

“Uh,” says Julia.

A cockroach, maybe five times Lup’s current size, is rushing toward them. Julia has her sword readied, and begins cutting at its weak points. After a minute of effectively goring it, Julia stands over the bug’s carcass, holding her arms up. The cockroach excretes something, and Julia falls over, clearly a bit worse for the wear, but not so badly hurt as to make Lup worry. Girl’s tough as nails. The cockroach continues to ooze out, and Lup comes close to throwing up again

Maureen tells them to get out, and they immediately comply, walking out of the elevator to Lucretia’s smug grin. 

“There are two doors again,” she says, “If you’re not too wiped from kicking a bug’s ass. R&D on a friendly robot is our vote, but radiation chamber is also an option.”

“I’d probably put the medbay closer to the radiation chamber out of sheer necessity,” says Lup, thinking.   
  
“The sheer necessity bit is what’s worrying me, though, so, again, Buddy Bot is probably a bit safer.”

“You got healing, old man?” asks Julia.

He sighs, defends his own age, and utters a brief prayer to “whoever-the-fuck,” and a light seems to hit both Lucretia and Julia, who thank him profusely.

“Yeah, Lup, I’m--I’m anti-radiation right now. Majority rules.”

“Sure, whatever, I didn’t really have an opinion either way.”

The room is damaged pretty badly, but there is a tiny robot in the middle, with a lit-up smile on its face.

It says, “Hello there! My name is Hodge Podge. Are you kids ready to learn?”

“Edutainment,” says Lup, “I dig.”

“Yes,” says Maureen, through the suit, “Uh, I made it for my son, to help him learn.”

“Please say your names,” says Hodge Podge. 

“Julia,” says Julia, and it repeats her name. 

“Merle,” another repetition.

“Lucretia,” another repeat.

“Lup,” she says, and it takes a moment.

“Luhp.”   
  
“No, no, that’s not it.”   
  
“Julia, Merle Lucretia, Luhp. Please choose a mode! Child, adult, or master!”   
  
“Like,” says Lup, “We want to get out of this quick, right? Child.”   
  
Hodge Podge says, “The categories are: math, science, magic, spelling, problem solving, history.”

“History,” says Lucretia.

“Name the ruling family of Neverwinter!”

“Sterling,” Lucretia rolls her eyes. Lup’s pretty fucking smart, but she doesn’t pay much attention to city politics. But she’s ninety percent sure that Lucretia is a genius, so she’s not worried about this game at all.

“Correct!” says Hodge Podge, whose eyes begin to glow red soon after saying that, “Falsehood detected! Cheaters! You’re not children! Difficulty mode changing to Master!”   
  
“Shit,” says Merle.

“Okay, I’ll play,” says Julia, “Spelling for eight hundred.”   
  
“Spell the name of the race  _ AASIMAR. _ ”

“You can detect that we’re adults but not anything else about us?” Julia laughs, “A-a-s-i-m-a-r, aasimar, do not use it in a sentence, do not pass go, do not collect two hundred GP.”

“Correct!” Hodge Podge shoots confetti at Julia, “Choose another category!”

“Magic,” says Lup. 

“What school of magic does Weird fall under?”   
  
Lup has never even heard of this spell. And she was top of her class. She has never heard of this spell in her entire life.

“Trick question,” she says, “It doesn’t exist.”   
  
“False. R&D mode activate.”

Fire blasts from all sides of the room. Merle manages to cast a force field around himself, whereas Julia is standing in place, shaking, as flames burn her through her suit.

Lucretia dodges, but Lup feels fire crawling up her legs. “Hey Lucretia?” she says, as her legs burn, “Radiation chamber sounds fun, huh?” 

“Illusion,” says Lucretia, “The answer was illusion.”

And it’s over as soon as it started. Julia, eyes wide and full of something terrible, strikes the robot with her sword. Fire shoots from the walls again, but Julia dodges this time, hitting the robot again. 

“Careful!” it says, cheerful,  “You’re playing a little too rough!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. i love noelle  
> 2\. i love you  
> 3\. i also love comments and kudos but hey, the other two take priority. still, though.


	18. ALL RIGHT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit gets wet and wild in the Miller lab, y'all. And by wet and wild, I mean it's time for unkillable water bears.
> 
> Lup declares a team name. Lucretia calls shit out. Julia's greatest fear isn't exactly what she thought it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi it's 2AM
> 
> 1\. i scrapped a nasty ass plot from canon. it's not really relevant or conducive to the story i wanna tell, so. yeah.  
> 2\. thanks to my beta bluestonewings for engaging in a quick volley of songs that remind us of taz and also telling me that you can date everyone in stardew valley at one time, maybe? and for editing this mess obvi  
> 3\. im so tired

Julia puts one and one together pretty quickly--if she attacks, everyone else gets burned. So she stops. It’s ineffective.  

“Please select a category!”

“History,” says Lucretia, again, smugly.

“Who is the inventor of math?”  
  
Lup blurts out, “Doug Math! It’s Doug Math, born in the year zero, cuz numbers and therefore time didn’t technically exist until him. He invented math at, like, age eight? And everyone was like, ‘oh, that makes sense.’”  
  
“Correct!” says the machine, with confetti, “Are you four ready for the bonus round?” 

“Yeah?” 

“The bonus round is called, “Stump Hodgepodge!” Can the three of you come up with a question that can stump your BuddyBot Hodgepodge? I’ll warn you: I possess an almanac of complete world knowledge.”

“Well that’s not fuckin’ fair, huh?” asks Julia. Lucretia is writing down ideas, showing them to Lup, who keeps saying, “Nah, not that--”  
  
Merle says confidently, “What is _love?_ ”

“What does love _feel like_ , that’s the question, Merle, you--” Lucretia puts her hands into a pyramid shape, touches them to her lips, and closes her eyes in frustration.

“Love is an intense feeling of deep affection.”  
  
“Or a score of zero in squash,” Julia supplies.

“We each get a try, right?” says Lup.

“Of course.”  
  
“Was _Sizzle it Up!_ a good show?”  
  
“Fuck you,” says Lucretia, almost meditative in her stance, which she has maintained since Merle first opened his mouth.

“That is subjective! However, it did receive good ratings until its final show.” 

“Why _did_ that show end?” muses Lucretia, “Wait, no, it was the thing with the nightsh--that’s--that’s not my question. I have good ones.” 

“ _Sizzle it Up!_ ended when forty audience members died from poison!” 

“Okay, here’s a question, my real question--”

“Shoot!”

“Who do we work for?”

“Oh, shit!” says Julia, and she readies her sword, just in case something terrible happens.

“Computing.”

“Buddy? Who was Governor Kalan?” Julia smiles widely as she asks it.  
  
“Computing.”  
  
“Oh, and one more,” says Merle, “Who do I worship?”

Lup contributes, “What item destroyed the city of Phandalin?”  
  
“I do not understand,” says Hodge Podge, and then, again, but faster. Julia smells smoke, and she feels the ground begin to shake The flame jets on the walls light up, and Julia gets ready to dodge, braces herself, but before anything else can happen, the robot just explodes. 

“Good thinking, Lucretia!” Julia wraps her arm around Lucretia’s shoulder as they head to the next room.

This room happens to be a circular chamber, larger than the robot’s room. There’s a large pillar, but it otherwise seems like an empty room, save the ventilation system, which has a large hole shot in it. 

_Meet you at elevators! -TSF_

“What’s tuh-suf?”

“The Regulators' team name, Merle, pay fucking attention. Team Sweet Flips!”

“They do a lot of dope flips,” explains Julia. 

“Very dexterous,” Lucretia nods her head.  
  
“Well pardon me for not keeping up on the gossip. You fucks have a team name?” 

“No. Let’s each say a word, count of three.”

“Horny,” says Julia, and she laughs. Lucretia, who had said “Tres,” immediately says, “No.”

“The law declares such,” says Lup, who had said “Gals,” during the word session, “We are officially Tres Horny Gals.”

“I hate you,” says Lucretia, “So much. Both of you.”  
  
“You don’t,” Julia squeezes her tighter, and Lucretia pushes her arm off playfully and laughs.  

They venture forward, eventually finding a room marked _LUCAS’ ROOM._

“The fuck’s Lucas?” asks Lup.

“She mentioned a son, earlier?”  
  
“I’m not picking up another kid,” Lucretia says, crossing her arms.  
  
“I don’t trust the kid we already have,” says Merle.

“Sir?” Angus chimes in through Julia’s Stone of Farspeech, “Uh, I can--I can hear you!”

“What?”

“I can hear you!”  
  
“Ango, I gotta do this, okay? You know who Lucas is?” Julia says.  
  
“Uh--Maureen’s son, Miss Lup was right on that, but, uh, he’s--” Angus trails off, and coughs.  
  
“What, Ang?”  
  
“He’s been dead for about six months, ma’am.” 

“I’m breaking in,” says Julia, “Gonna try and extract that info.”

“Hell yeah,” says Lup, “Cre?”

“Sure. Merle, you keep guard--”  
  
“Fine, _sure_ , I have a Nitpicker--” 

“I have lockpicking proficiency and also I love to steal things? Like, I do it as a job, Merle. I got this shit.”

She knocks down the door with ease, and she and her companions enter a bedroom. Everything’s clean to the point where it’s alarming. It’s entirely and completely unlived in, purged of all signs of its previous inhabitant, save a desk with an unlit lamp, papers scattered all over it.

Julia casts Light onto Steven’s bowl so Lucretia can see, and also because it’s a very nice look for Steven. There’s a lockbox on the desk, which she immediately tears into. A compact mirror sits inside of it, and a quick search reveals no other items. She opens up the compact while Lup and Lucretia look over her shoulders.

Instead of a mirror, they find a smooth, circular pane of emerald, which projects a slightly warped reflection of the three of them.

But the image changes. 

Two young women are sitting on a bench outside, one with her head on the others’ shoulder. They both stare down at a small glowing rectangle in one's hand, smiling at it.

The image changes.

A teenager and an adult man are in some sort of vehicle, listening to music with overwhelming bass and singing along. Dozens of other, slightly different vehicles are parked in front of them, and there are horns honking. No one is moving.

The image changes.

A middle-aged woman is placing potatoes into a rectangular device, tapping her foot impatiently while they spin around in the device.

The image changes.

Two people are sitting in front of a large glowing box, holding small mechanical devices in their hands. They are staring at the box, pressing down on the devices, but they’re talking, like it’s normal. 

The image changes, and changes, and changes, into these impossible scenes. The three of them are enthralled by the images it presents and stand there, quietly amazed.  

Then, another rift, like the one the golem had emerged from, appears. Close to the door, to Merle. He yelps and backs away, towards them, and Julia snaps the compact shut.

A crystal emerges, floating out of the rift.

And it sings. 

i saw beyond the universe  / far past the places i should’ve seen / but for this vision i was cursed / torn from my home and family / lost to this crystal kingdom.

The room begins to crystallize. Julia shoves the mirror into her bag, grabs her friends’ hands, and runs. Some crystals are acting as projectiles, detaching from the walls and aiming themselves at--well, it seems like they’re only aimed toward Merle, actually. Julia jumps ahead, and hits them back with her sword.

“Why do they target _me_?” Merle asks.

“Fuck if I know, man. Maureen!” 

“Yes?” drawls the woman in question, “Where are you--”  
  
“Uh, near the vent base,” Julia says, “How do we get to the elevators?”  
  
“There should be an airlock straight ahead, just walk through there--I think it’s rather intuitive, from there on out--”  
  
“Yeah, I suppose.” 

There’s a door covered in ice ahead, which Julia assumes, considering their luck so far, is the one that’s more likely to get them where they need to go, but also put them in the most peril.

“Lup?”  
  
“You good with me--?”  
  
“Yeah, just fuckin’--just get us out of this crystal fucking funhouse.”

Lup burns down the door instantaneously, melting the metal as well as the ice.

Noelle, Killian, and Carey are in there, merc-ing some robots, Killian notices them and yells, “Check the next chamber, we got this!”

So they do.

“I blew a spell slot on--”  
  
“That was a cantrip,” says Lucretia, “don’t act all upset. Maureen, this--the anti-gravity chamber is--its purpose is sort of--intuitive, yes?”  
  
“I developed the technology, yes, uh--one of my better creations, I’d argue.”

 “Impressive,” says Lucretia.

Julia immediately enters the room and shoots up a few feet in the anti-grav chamber, feeling loose and comfortable in mid-air. She tends to dream about flying--it feels right, to her, being in midair. Maybe it’s celestial heritage, or some bullshit like that. Lup has opened her umbrella and is using it as a glider of some sort, swooping from wall to wall, and Lucretia is visibly panicking, attempting to use her quarterstaff as a balance. 

“Dude, you good?”  
  
Lucretia breathes deeply for a few moments, and says, voice a few octaves higher than normal, “Absolutely wonderful; delighted; loving this.”

Merle is doing fine, grouchily accepting his fate to just drift around the chamber.  

And then, something absolutely _wonderful_ happens. Two weird-looking, fat, absolutely adorable creatures begin to approach the four of them, snorting a bit as they move forward. They have eight fat legs sticking out of a pudgy body, and circular snouts filled with small sharp teeth.

Julia flips forward, rushing towards them. She asks, “Maureen, what kind of dog is this?”

“That’s--you’re in antigrav, so, uh, probably a tardigrade. An unkillable water bear,” Maureen sighs, “I’ve been stu--they should be microscopic, how can you see them?”

Julia smiles, her eyes squinting to the point where she can hardly see the creature anymore.

“You guys know how--you know how we had to choose animals that suited us?” she yells back. 

“Yeah?” says Lup.

“Unkillable water bear. I changed my mind. That’s me. Absolutely one hundo percent.”

She reaches up to pet one, but it bites her arm instead. She recoils--this hurts. Significantly. 

Lucretia says, “Um. Sorry in advance.” 

She waves her arm, and suddenly, Julia is surrounded by those she cares about.

Her father is shaking his head, calling her disappointing, unable to save him; Lup is calling her pathetic; Lucretia is so clearly, so clearly judging her; some shadow, in the distance, is holding a beautiful human woman in their arms, and Julia is filled with something like rage, but a feeling in her stomach that says something akin to “that’s fair.” And she knows she’s not liked, and she wants to know what she _did,_ everyone has always liked her, she needs to be liked, she _needs_ it. 

“It’s not real, dumbass,” shouts Lup.

And it isn’t. She’s in the airlock, floating in the middle of an antigrav chamber. The tardigrades have run away.

“I’m sorry I had to do that to the three of you,” says Lucretia, “I--I can’t shape my spells, and--”  
  
“It’s cool,” says Lup. 

Julia doesn’t say anything at all. She turns around, and exits to the corridor. The other three drift out behind her. Noelle, Carey, and Killian are outside. Carey says, “Okay, so this wall--Lup, you wanna help us burn it down? It’s all ice up in here.”

Julia closes her eyes. She can feel heat on her skin. Hot fire, blazing away, inches from her face. She can-- wait.

She can hear screaming. She turns around, and Merle’s arm is turning into crystal. He’s the one screaming. 

A gruff voice from nowhere says, “Uh, you’re--that was a little bit too easy. Like--” 

And it vanishes. 

Julia analyzes her options, draws her sword, and says, “Okay, look, it’s dismemberment or death, Merle, so, uh, dude? Gotta choose, real fast.”

“Dismemberment. It was--it was God--he--” 

“Okay, Lucretia, come back here and hold him down--”

Lucretia complies, pinning him to the ground. 

“Noelle, can you be comforting, or--”

Noelle says, “You got this, Merle, deep breaths, alright?”

Julia brings down her sword on his arm, carving out the crystallized area with precision. The bone audibly cracks, and he immediately passes out from pain. Blood pools on the ground, and Julia drops her sword. 

“Maureen--” 

“Medbay’s _right_ past the ice,” she says, “Run.” 

“Ice is no longer a problem,” says Lup. 

Killian lifts Merle up onto her back, easily the strongest of the six of them, and dashes ahead, while the others trail behind. Julia feels as if she’s about to throw up; she just cut this man’s arm off. She cut an arm off of someone she genuinely enjoys the existence of. That can’t be good. At all.

 She keeps running, and she sees crystals forming into some sort of creature--one larger and slightly more humanoid than the one they had fought earlier. Killian is yelling at Maureen through the door to the medbay, having thrown Merle onto a chair in there. Julia, instead of looking at the monster, runs in to yell at Maureen as well. The others follow suit, none of them prepared for a battle right now.

“Your lab and your weird need to fuck with a relic? It hurt my friend,” Julia grabs Maureen by her shoulders, pushes her against a table, “Now fix him.”  
  
Maureen takes a syringe and, hands shaking, shoots something into Merle’s arm. He wakes up, though he’s clearly still in pain, yells, “Shit!”

 “Merle, you’re--you’re safe.”  
  
“I’m disarmed.”  
  
“Nice.”

“God said--”  
  
“Your god?”  
  
“They said--”

 “Carey,” says Maureen, interrupting and scribbling something down on a sheet of paper, “Go my chamber, right down that corridor to the left, find me this, and be back ASAP.”  
  
“Sure, fine, whatever--”

 Carey runs through the room, past Merle’s form, and out of the door.

 “The thing is--it’s comin’ closer,” says Noelle, readying her weapon.

 “So we should stay in here until we have everybody ready to fight it,” says Lucretia.

 “That-- thing can’t permeate this room, it’s--it’s using Conjuration and Transmutation, and I filled this room with wards,” Maureen says, gesturing around with her arms. It’s a sight to behold, following her hands as she talks, “It’s--were it not obvious, which it is, this creature is travelling between planes to get from place to place.”

“Yeah, that was super obvi,” says Lup, clearly meaning the opposite.  
  
“How do you know it’s planes?” Lucretia asks, “It could be something stranger. Dimensions, per se. Universes.”  
  
“Unlikely. I--I’ve researched the planar system. This adds up.”

“How would you know?”  
  
“I just--I just do, okay?”

“Alright then,” says Lucretia, “If you know so much about this creature, you might know why it’s after us. Or even why it’s here to begin with. Or what it is. I’ve been taking notes on everything you’ve been saying, Maureen, and I know you know more than you’re letting on. So I’d start talking.”

And Lucretia smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> iiiit's finals week and gotv time and podcast production time, so, again, expect updates to be a bit more sparse than usual. sorry!
> 
> comments and kudos fill me with glee or some other, better word.
> 
> love you byeee


	19. I LIKE TO BOUNTY HUNT IN MY BLUE JEANS; MY TARGETS THINK I'M A TOTAL MONSTER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The girls get some info on just what the hell is happening, re: this lab, and also re: the universe as a whole.
> 
> Julia has some religious conflicts. Lup uses some tentacles. Lucretia confesses to a crime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. OH GEEZ Y'ALL, finals are kicking my ass. i wanna die.  
> 2\. here's some barry bluejeans content, i guess, holy shit.  
> 3\. exposition time  
> 4\. Carey Knows Shit

Lucretia taps her foot nervously on the ground, keeping rhythm with her heartbeat. She’s staring at Maureen, who isn’t saying anything. Lup’s hand is on her shoulder, which is a good source of confidence. Killian is rationing out healing potions for everyone, and Noelle and Julia are tending to Merle, who is muttering nonsensical stories about God. Lucretia’s fists are balled, and she’s trying to make her gaze steely. She wants to be intimidating, a powerful presence. It’s not necessarily her specialty--she’s more aloof than intimidating, but hey, she can try. She can get one from the other. 

“Where is this creature from?” she asks. 

Maureen stares at her, unblinking, and does not open her mouth. 

She pulls out her quarterstaff, holds it to Maureen’s chest. 

“I would talk, if I were you. I’m rather good at finding the truth, believe it or not.”

Merle croaks something out, and something crashes over Lucretia, and she realizes Zone of Truth has been cast. She gives Merle a nod, and he, with great effort, gives a thumbs up. He groans, loudly, from pain, but Lucretia decides to get to the point.

“Maureen, what is this creature?”  
  
“I--” she stutters a bit, and then says, “It’s from the Astral Plane, I know, but I don’t know what it is--I--” 

“And how do you know it’s from the Astral Plane?”

“I’ve been--I was experimenting with it.”

Carey rushes back in and says, “Hey, I got the--yo, is there a Zone of Truth party going on in here? Also, comms are supes cut off from here forward in the lab. I tried to reach HQ, still not hearing anything back.”  
  
“Yeah.” Lucretia glares at Maureen, who turns away, puttering around with some beakers on her lab table.   
  
“Cool, whatever. Here’s the arm, I had to fight a robot to get it but hey, turns out, they just got switches, so--”

Maureen pours some liquid into Merle’s mouth, and attaches a branch that Carey hands her to the stump Julia had left as Merle’s arm. It seems to meld in with his arm, as if it’s natural, though it takes him a few moments to gain complete control of it.  

“This is soulwood,” says Maureen, “You’re a--you’re a gardener, so it suits you, I think. It makes a psychic link.”

“Maureen,” says Lucretia, “I’d like to get back on topic. The book mentioned that the Philosopher’s Stone simply transmutates--are you somehow using it to access other planes?”  
  
“What book?” asks Killian.

“The  book we stole from the Captain,” says Lup, along with Julia, along with Lucretia. Julia sing-songs it, a little bit, off-key.

Lucretia adds, “It’s written in my handwriting, and it’s about the Red Robes.”  
  
“That’s _your_ handwriting?” asks Lup, “Would’ve been nice of you to tell us that earlier--”   
  
“I--I don’t know why it’s in my handwriting, I assumed it was just a coincidence!”

“Sure,” says Lup.

“I’m Zone of Truthed, Lup.”

“The wunderkinds stole from the Captain?” Maureen laughs. 

“Nah, I’ve stolen from him before, too,” says Killian, and Carey enthusiastically seconds, “Got me some cool mugs.”  
  
“That could be vital information to your organization, Lucretia.”   
  
“He has a copy. I’ve seen him with it.”

“I used the Stone to help with my studies, yes, but--there were other tools. Let me--let me explain. We have our observable universe, yes?”

“Claro.”

“Then we have--we have rules that govern this universe. Laws of science, of arcana, of bonds.”

“Wha--”  
  
“And then, we have the planar system. The elemental planes, the ethereal, celestial, astral planes, and then, of course, the plane of thought.”   
  
“Which one is--”   
  
“When a--when a stone is grown into a perfect circle, they resonate with these planes. My grandfather, he found one of these gemstones, and it connected with the plane of thought--I gave the emerald to my son, before he--”   
  
“Keep going.”   
  
“We took inspiration from the plane of thought to, uh, create our family’s inventions. We’ve been leading industry since then--”   
  
Killian sighs, says, "Can you please, just, like, explain what thi- why you use the grand relic to do all this stuff? Cause these are, I don’t- this is cool and everything, I love this science lesson, fuckin’ Fantasy Carl Sagan shit, but--I need to know the information.”

“My son and I--we wanted to model the rest of the planes. We wanted access. So when we acquired the stone, we began to--we made more of these stones. A lot of trial and error, but--we made a lot of these stones. And we began to--”

Time freezes. Maureen, Killian, Noelle, and Carey freeze. Lucretia does not. She inhales, she exhales, and notes the stillness of the everything. She stares at Lup, who is squinting at something behind Lucretia’s back.

Lucretia feels a breeze behind her, and hears the voice of the Red Robe.

“There’s really more to it than that,” he says.

Merle, a bit more lucid, says, “What the fuck." 

“I told you about the hunger of all living things.”  
  
“You said something about consumption, actually, and then you disappeared,” says Julia, readying her sword. 

“This is a--”  
  
“Yes, Merle, catch up.”  
  
“We gotta tell the C--”  
  
“No, we don’t, Merle. Last time, he freaked out, got really upset--”  
  
“Your Captain?” asks the Red Robe. 

“Yes,” says Lucretia.

He’s staring at Lup, says, “That’s--the hat.”  
  
“Yeah, stole it out of a cave. High fashion, and all.”   
  
“It’s bad!” says Julia, “It’s so, so bad.”

“It isn’t _that_ bad.”

“She pulls it off,” Lucretia says.  

“Anywho,” he says, “A billion _billion_ lives have been devoured by this hunger in pursuit of its power.”

“There aren’t--there aren’t that many lives, that’s not--that’s not a real number,” says Julia, shaking her head.

“There were.”

“No--”  
  
“Julia, listen to me,” he says.

“I never gave you my _name_ \--” 

“There is no more running, there is no escape. This world is _life’_ s last chance--”

“You’re literally undead, my man--” 

“Sure, but--wait. Lup, where did you find that fucking hat--”  
  
“In a cave, with a weirdass message with my name above it.”

“When you were--the gauntlet?”  
  
“Okay, have you been-- _who_ the fuck are you?”   
  
“You wouldn’t understand if I--Did you find him?”   
  
“Find who?”   
  
“T--I have to leave. Find me.”

He holds out a vial, which Julia grabs in midair.

And time unfreezes. Everything swings back into motion, like clockwork. Ambient noises return, the sound of the air.

Merle says, “You three have to tell me what the _hell_ just happened?”

Lucretia sighs, thinks to him, _We met that Red Robe in Goldcliff. He seemed to be trying to gain our trust._

“We began to investigate these planes,” says Maureen, who rubs the bridge of her nose as she speaks, as if she has a migraine, “And then, Lucas passed. It was very sudden, unexpected. He fell ill--he often fell ill. His father’s side. I continued our research alone. I--I want to revolutionize our world, in his memory. Make it better. With access to the other planes

“I’m sorry,” says Julia, still clutching the vial. She’s looking at the ground intently.

“Is there a--” Maureen looks down at a device on her belt, “Is one of you a lich, somehow?”

“No,” the three of them, along with Merle, say perhaps to quickly.

“Must be an anomaly,” Lucretia shrugs, trying to look natural. Presumably failing, she thinks, though she’s unsure.

There’s a stack of circular gemstones on a table, next to Maureen. Julia has already made her way towards one that seems to be glowing almost--it’s black opal, from Lucretia’s best guess. Lucretia nods at her to take it. 

“Maureen,” says Lucretia, “We need to stop this--this creature, whatever it may be. It’s following us, we know--we know that much, but. we can stop it. With your help.”  
  
“Lucretia,” says Killian, “We are not bringing this fucking--we are not bringing her anywhere _close_ to the stone. We have orders. You remember orders--”   
  
“You can regulate her once she cleans up the mess she started,” Lup says, “Lucretia’s right. We need Maureen’s info to get this done.”   
  
“Look. You can get the relic yourselves, that’s your job. Our job? Me, and Carey, and Noelle? Our job is to make sure people don’t fucking destroy the world, like Maureen here’s about to do.”

“We’re in this shit together,” says Lup, “Like it or not. We split up earlier and bad shit happened. We gotta face this as a group.”  
  
“Kill,” says Carey, “I--I think they’re right. Look, babe, we gotta consider that Maureen’s--”   
  
“The only one who knows what’s goin’ on, yeah--”   
  
“So it’s more info to incriminate. That’s a plus, yeah?”   
  
“Sure.”

Killian sighs.

“Fine. Fine. I’ll--I’ll allow this.”

“Let’s go, then,” says Noelle and she begins to walk forward.

Maureen touches her belt, and she runs forward, and Lucretia feels possessed by something--she can’t move.

It’s her suit. She’s floating in midair, unable to move, all because of this suit. Her body feels like it’s static.

“I’m sorry,” Maureen says, “I’m sorry.”

She’s gone. 

Everyone else is trapped as well. Julia’s teeth are clenches, as if she’s trying to will herself out of it, and Killian is struggling significantly, eyes shut tight. 

“I’m going to kill her,” she says, “No fucking joke.”

“That’s--that’s entirely fair.”  
  
And the, the voice, the synthetic voice that sings from the crystals, it begins a new verse. Same notes, same rhythm.

saved from the dark by one held dear / locked in a cage of glass and steel / but my true needs remain far, yet clear / beckoning me to break the seal / into this crystal kingdom

A mass begins to form before them, one almost humanoid in appearance. It takes Merle’s crystallized arm, which flies through the door, forms two sturdy legs, a head, and even manages to form spectacles--it takes its time to form itself. It continues this process, taking great care for detail, until it looks like a normal, human man made entirely of tourmaline. 

He says, “Well, looks like I’ve got you folks trapped, huh?” 

A tome appears in his hands and he begins flipping through it, muttering an occasional, “Hm,” or “Ooh.”

After a moment he points at the Regulators, says, “You three aren’t on my list, yet, but be careful. But you four? Well, it’s a one way trip to the Astral Plane for y’all, huh?”  
  
“What?” says Julia.

“I got bounties on the four of you. From the Raven Queen.”  
  
“Uh, I don’t think I’ve done anything to piss Her off, like, if it’s because I haven’t been to temple since I was twenty, I’m not really sure that’s punishable by death--” 

“No, it’s--you’re a _worshipper_ , and you have _this_ on your bounty sheet? What the _hell_ are you doing?”  
  
“I don’t know what’s on my bounty sheet, man.” 

“Look, folks, let’s make this easy. Draw your weapons, or whatever.”

Julia is trying to Mage Hand the book out of his arms, and Lup has trapped him in some kind of tentacle trap. 

“I’m praying that this isn’t something you’re into, dude,” she says, “Please don’t give me a yes or no answer, I just--I shouldn’t have asked.” 

“I’m--you have me fucking trapped, Lup, I’m not--like, sexually?”  
  
“Oh, so you know our names too, then?” asks Julia, “Cool, cool, we have fans, y’all!”

“Look, this place is undead central, I have _other work_ to do, can we just finish this fucking fight?”   
  
“I wanna know your name, nerd,” says Lup.

Lucretia decides to think ahead, and she casts Scrying to get a read on Maureen’s location. She succeeds, and spots Maureen rushing down some stairs, hyperventilating. 

“My name is Barry,” says the crystal figure, “Barry J. Bluejeans.”  
  
“I’m sorry?” says Carey, stifling a laugh, "Wait, I know what you're--fuck, they don't know, dude, they--"

“It’s my given name, I don’t know what’s so--”

“I got your book! Guys, I’m really good at taking books from people,” says Julia, pulling the book over to herself, “Highchurch, Merle, fifty-four. Olatunji, Lucretia, three. Taaco, Lup, Thirteen. Waxmen, Julia, twenty-three. What the fuck does--”  
  
The figure summons his book back to himself. 

“You should know, shouldn’t you? You’re the ones avoiding the inevitable.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Um. So. i totally forgot about the in-canon interaction with red robe!barry that came up in this chapter with red robe!kravitz, like--i remembered the YOU FOUND HER, but nothing else. and i thought it was after the relic had been retrieved. whatevs tho.  
> 2\. unfortunately due to my own cornering-myself-into-a-wall, i couldn't get the dang cosmoscope into play. which is shtty, because i love the staging of that and i think it would be dope as hell to expand upon. y'know what they say, though, regrets and mistakes they're memories made who would have known how bittersweet this would taste  
> 3\. comments and kudos mean the world to me!  
> 4\. kravitz and barry are bad at their jobs no matter what they do. flustered nerd idiots. i love them.


	20. ROCK ON

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a weird encounter with literal, actual death, our heroes fight some robots, get the relic they need, and finally get some info. 
> 
> Lup has a snack. Lucretia stops the magic. Julia contemplates her faith.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the absence. finals week + gotv + job interviews for post-campaign life + really bad heat exhaustion + depression = no free time, ya feel? so here's a new chapter, for you. i love you. enjoy, i guess.

Julia is parsing her brain for what she would have done for the Raven Queen to have a bounty on her, and she’s lost, entirely and completely. She’s never fucked around with necromancy, though she’s not quite sure about Merle, Lucretia, or Lup in that front—though, she has a higher number than Lup or Lucretia, but numbers might be meaningless. Who’s to say?

“It’s your death count,” says Death, and, though he has no eyes in his current form, he seems to be rolling them.

“I’ve never died—“

“You’ve died, uh, twenty-three times—“

“I really—look, crystal-man,” Merle grumbles, still clearly in some pain, “I don’t have the best memory, but I think I’d remember dying _fifty_ times.”  

“Fifty-four.”

“Numbers robot,” says Lup, laughing despite her inability to fight back, “Fuck, dude,  _ we’re not undead. _ ”

“This place is crawling with folks I’m supposed to get, but you four—you four are kinda jackpots, so.”

Julia can feel the paralysis charm on her fading, and she spots Lucretia smirking, mischief in her eyes. She knows Lucretia knows Dispel Magic, which is presumably what’s going on, about now. Lucretia begins attempting to distract the figure, broadcasting into everyone’s mind,  _ I don’t want to waste spell slots, but Julia, you’re free to go, maybe Rogue the rest of us out of this situation? _

“So,” Lucretia says, trying to create a distraction, “How would you be so sure that this isn’t a clerical error? That we weren’t just added to your—your list of targets by mistake?”

Julia picks her sword up from the ground.

“Well, I’d—the Raven Queen isn’t gonna make mistakes, Lucretia, she’s—she’s pretty damn badass and organized.”

Death is flustered. Cute, thinks Julia. 

She casts Spider Climb on herself and begins to sneak up behind Death. This is almost definitely sacrilegious, she thinks, for a moment, but shrugs it off. 

Carey is cursing in Draconic, and Lup is tilting her head, with what little movement she has left.

“Okay, Barold,” says Lup, “You got the deets on our deaths? Or you gonna keep us in the dark?”

There’s a tone to her voice, she’s  _ teasing,  _ she’s taunting Death, maybe even  _ flirting  _ with Death. What the fuck?

Julia clears her mind of this, though, and, sword drawn, she jumps down onto Death’s back. Death yelps, as Julia latches on, sword at his crystalline neck, and she smiles wildly.

He shoots a crystal off his shoulder, aiming for her face, and misses. 

“Ah, shit,” he says, “Y’know--”

She tries to cast Sleep on Death, and manages to succeed, somehow, as she feels herself fall to the ground. Death’s crystal form has shattered. She runs up to Lucretia, starts fiddling with switches on the null suit, until she finds one on the back that seems to free up Lucretia’s movement. Lucretia runs over to Lup, while Julia hits Merle and Carey. Killian and Carey are freed by Lup, and they run on to the next room.

They’re greeted by more humanoid robots, like the ones they’d seen crystallized before, but this time, they’re--they’re moving. 

They have, on their chests, glowing cores.

And one drawls, in a familiarly slow, drawling tone, “Well, this is just a delight.”

“Jenkins?”  

“Who?” asks Killian.

“Dude we met when we got the Oculus. Kind of a creep.”  
  
“More than kind of. Very much a creep.” 

“The ultimate creep.”

Another two reveal themselves to be Maarvy, the racer Lucretia had killed, and Brad, the Bureau traitor Carey had killed. They taunt, as pathetically as they did when they were alive. They’re unthreatening as ever, but then they try and shoot at them. Carey and Lup jump out of the way, but Merle takes some damage. 

There are more robots behind them, smaller. Silent, but lingering. 

“Best we split up,” says Lucretia, grabbing Noelle and Julia’s hands and rushing up to the next ones, “You four, handle our body count.”

Julia can smell smoke behind her--Lup is going hard on these robots, who are taunting the crowd, complaining about their untimely deaths.

But there ones, these smaller robots behind them, begin to circle Noelle.

They have her accent. They’re firing small shots of electricity at her, burning her, leaving her battered. She does not fight back. 

“You ran,” they say, “You ran, Ellie. Ran away from the fire and from us.” 

Noelle is shaking. She does not fight back.  

“You let us burn, Ellie,” they say. All at once, all seething, “You left us to die. Only cared about yourself, didn’t ya?”

Lucretia and Julia ready their weapons. They stare at each other, and Julia nods. She begins to think. And think.  

“Bluejeans said that--he said there were a buncha unruly spirits in here,” Julia says, rationalizing the situation to herself, rather than conversing, “These are--they’re dead. Lucretia, these are dead people.” 

“Noelle, they’re trying to hurt you,” says Lucretia, “Ignore them.” 

“You let us burn, Ellie.”  
  
“I’m sorry,” says Noelle. Her voice cracks. Julia’s chest seems to turn in circles, her heart contorting into something. She’s had this nightmare before. 

She brings down her sword on one of the robots, slicing it in half. Electricity crackles, for a moment, and she slices another one. She’s very good at this whole thing, she thinks.  

Lucretia is hitting them away with her staff, grunting with effort. She’s a bit burnt up, but otherwise fine.  Noelle is on the ground, the visor of her null suit foggy from hyperventilation and tears. There’s smoke, there’s electrical fire. Julia grabs Noelle’s hand, pulls her up.

“You okay?”   
  
“Been better,” Noelle exhales, inhales, exhales, inhales. 

“I got you, dude,” she pulls Noelle into a hug. Noelle hugs back, and she feels weak.

The other four are staring at them, larger robots on the ground. Carey and Lup are bloodied, but Merle is working some healing magics on them, it seems. 

Killian, though. 

“There’s a crack in my helmet,” she says. 

“Babe,” says Carey, “Babe--”

“I’m not gonna need convincing, I--you six gotta handle this, ya feel? Take that fucker down.” 

“Obvi.”

“Look, I--I love you guys, kay? I’m--I’m sorry. Go on without me.”

And, after some hugs, they do.

“There goes our tank,” whines Merle.

“Hey,” the other five say.

“Just--just saying, what we have left are arcanists and two rogues, not the best for avoiding gettin’ hurt.”

“That was my family,” says Noelle, after a moment, out of nowhere. Julia rubs her shoulder, “From--from Phandalin. We ran the brewery--”   
  
“Goodass beer,” says Carey, wistfully, “We grabbed some on our way to--Look, Noelle, dude, I’m--I’m not so hot with emotions, you know that, but--but it wasn’t your fault.”   
  
“I could’ve--”   
  
Julia says, “We all could’ve done a lot of things. You have to focus on the present. Focus on the family you got now. Lucretia, Lup, uh, Carey, and Killian, and--You gotta keep them safe. Make sure what happened to them never happens again.”

“Maureen’s a few floors down. There’s an elevator over there,” says Lucretia, out of the moment.

“You ready to save the world, Noelle?”  
  
Noelle inhales, exhales, and says, finally, “Hell yeah.” 

The elevator ride is uneventful, without much chit-chat.

They emerge into a room, uncrystallized, sterile. In the center, before a pedestal, stands Maureen, another humanoid robot before her. 

She is standing up straight, staring at a circular sapphire. Her hands are shaking, in the way that hands tend to when someone is nervous and exhausted. The sapphire glows, and in it, Julia can see a world that she’s only heard about in stories. She knows what the astral plane is supposed to look like--a glowing sea, a fortress in the center. That is what she sees in the sapphire. That is what is happening, that is what Maureen is doing her.

She’s toying with death. She’s the one who caused this. Julia is not zealous, in her religious beliefs--her faith in death, conceptually, died, for lack of a better word, alongside her town. But this is wrong, this--this blatant disrespect for the order of the universe.

Julia yells, “Hey!” across the room. Maureen jumps, shudders, “I’m done fucking around. Tell us what we need to know. Now.”

Maureen breathes.

“Now,” says Julia.

“I found the stone--my son and I found the stone,” she closes her eyes, “We found it months ago.”   
  
“So you lied,” says Lup, readying her umbrella, “To the Captain.”

“This is my-- _ our  _ lives’ work. This research on planes. And with the stone, we--we could complete it. But there was a mistake--I--I made a mistake. And my son--”   
  
“Your son passed because of the stone,” Lucretia says, “Is the robot--”   
  
“I made a mistake,” she repeats, “I found his soul in the astral plane this morning, and I--I put it into the form of a robot. One he had built. But something went wrong, and he--he attacked me. That’s why--”

“Your son is gone,” says Lucretia.

A figure emerges in the sapphire. 

“Yes, Dr. Miller, not really sure you need that reminder,” it’s Death, again. He’s a pretty normal looking dude, actually--human, thirties, glasses. Looks like a nerd, “You’ve been doing some fucked up shit, uh, vis-a-vis necromancy. You’ve made your whole lab a damn piñata of souls, Doc, and in the astral plane? Well, we’re not big fans. And you four--”

He points to Lup, Lucretia, Merle, and Julia, continues, “ _ You  _ four are the goddamn king-sized chocolate bars in the aforementioned piñata.”   
  
“Again, don’t remember dying,” says Merle.

“ _ Fifty-four times,  _ Highchurch. And you never visit!”

“I would, if I’d ever died! You seem like a fine fella--”

Maureen turns around, walks forward. Merle and Death continue to converse, but Maureen hands a stone to Julia.

“Take it,” she says, “Hide it from me. It’s--it keeps calling to me.” 

Lup says, “Dare you to eat it.”

“What?” asks Julia. 

“Well, it’ll hide the stone. Eat it.” 

“I don’t wanna have to shit out a Relic--”   
  
Carey begins chanting, “Eat it, eat it, eat it--”   
  
“No!”

Lup takes it from Julia’s hands, taps it with a fork, enveloping it in some kind of pastry, pulls down her visor, and plops it in her mouth.

“Fine!” says Julia, and Lucretia retches, “I guess that works, whatever!”

Lup turns around, immediately, says, “So, Bluejeans,” and she’s back from gross-mode and into tease-mode again, “You wanna look behind you? Cuz I’m not sure that’s supposed to be happenin’, my man.”

Because there _ is _ a stream of souls behind him, pouring out from the fortress.

Barry Bluejeans shifts into a more skeletal form. He almost looks like a lich. Julia recognizes this appearance as that of a reaper, the highest ranked emissary of the Raven Queen--there were stories told at temple about these beings.

The song comes on again. There are more voices, this time. More voices than Julia could ever imagine in one song. It’s more than just a choir, it’s a whole world singing. 

It’s those that feel they have been wronged by death. And they’re terrifying.

_ kept from our children, lovers, friends / subject to laws we did not make / this is where separation ends / and souls of the lost will come awake / enter this crystal kingdom _

The souls exit the sapphire, and emerge into a larger, skeletal body. It’s two, maybe three times as tall as Julia, and seems as if it’s not entirely corporeal.  

“Thank you Maureen and Lucas,” it says, with a thousand voices over each other, “Your job is done.”

Maureen collapses, falls into the arms of the robot before her.

The six of them prepare their weapons. This is a larger threat than they’ve faced before. And this, objectively, is terrifying. Like something out of a horror story; a giant ghost composed of other ghosts. Were it fiction, Julia would have loved it, but it’s real, and it’s trying to kill her, so she’s not really digging it

“Living ones,” no single voice can be isolated from the pack, “Let us merge our worlds. Let us be alive again! Let us coexist--permit us to join.”

“Uh,” says Lup, and she fires a Magic Missle at it, “No, dude. Not into that at _all_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments + kudos are life. i'll try and update soon. i'm still on that gotv grind, but that'll be over soon, and i wrote most of eleventh hour a literal month ago, so. that'll update faster, i think.
> 
> love you!


	21. ONE WHOLE VORE REFERENCE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When there's something strange/In your science lab/Who you gonna call?/Six dipshits!
> 
> Julia feels remorse. Lup plays frisbee. Lucretia is a good girlfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) there is one whole line in this chapter that is inspired by a scene from parks and rec.  
> (2) there's more smoochin' in this chapter, also.  
> (3) oh god it's eleventh hour time, almost.  
> (4) oh GOD, it's eleventh hour time, almost.  
> (5) this chapter is mega-rushed, because i feel bad about having gone a week sin updates.  
> (6) enjoy.

Look, Lup’s done some questionable shit because of curiosity before—she sees herself as an experimenter, even if she’s never been a scientist, per se. Still, eating a weapon of mass destruction right before fighting a giant death-monster is up there with the dumbest shit she’s ever done in her life. 

The relic keeps whispering shit to her, calling her  _ Lulu  _ and making offhand remarks that imply vore, which, alright. Fine. Little bit gross, but tolerable. But it’s distracting. It wants to be used, like the other relics, but she doesn’t really care, too much. She’s getting good at not listening. (Well, that was always a skill of hers, not listening, but the Relics are harder to avoid than people).

Lucretia is casting spells wildly at the ghost-horde, and  _ gods  _ is Lup in love with her. Or, not love. She’s not big on rushing that word. But Lucretia is a damn good fighter, and Lup is  _ definitely  _ into that.

Carey and Julia are tag teaming, doing flips off of walls and other rogue shit--Julia a bit more reckless in her motions, trying to get hits off with her sword. Which, ultimately, is her downfall, because the ghosts pin her to a wall, letting her fall. She’s injured terribly by the fall, probably breaking an arm. Lup swears she can hear a snap. Maureen’s prone form lies in the arms of her robo-son, who is trying, desperately, to wake her. Merle and Noelle are firing their own shots, and Lup is--Lup is thinking of what to do. Look. There are a lot of factors here, and she’s not on the top of her game. She just ate a rock that’s talking to her, okay? She’s a little bit out of it, and that’s fair. 

She focuses on the horde--Legion, it calls itself. She sees faces within it, of long-dead souls. She tries to find familiar ones--her aunt, her parents, Greg from university who owed her fifteen dollars but who died before he paid her back. She doesn’t see any of them. She sees people she’s killed (and her throats turns in circles, but it might be the stone doing that), and people she’s seen in obituaries. She sees the recent inhabitants of the astral plane. And it’s terrifying. She thinks about the astral plane. 

She has an idea, suddenly. A fucking genius one, at that. 

She yells, “Sorry, Bluejeans!” and she lifts the sapphire mirror up with Telekinesis. It’s nowhere near as heavy as she expects it to be, which is a benefit, but she does use a little bit too much gusto in lifting it. She telekinetically chucks it, with the skill of a woman who played a _lot_ of fantasy ultimate frisbee in her adolescence so as to tame a competitive streak that was interfering with her focus on academics, straight at the skull of Legion. The slime that makes up its shape dissipates, and takes a moment to reform. Legion is clearly weakened. She continues using the disc as a sort of frisbee-weapon, focusing all of her energy on that. It seems to cause the ghosts pain, so it’s working. God, she’s good at what she does, she thinks. She tunes out Barry’s screaming in protest; he can deal with it, he’s literal-actual-Death. 

Carey’s knocked out next, and her form lays next to Julia’s--they’re bloodied, but conscious. Julia’s trying to push herself up, 

Lucretia has teleported across the room, as it seems she tends to do, and is hitting Legion mercilessly. She’s low on spell slots. So is Lup. Shit. Noelle’s weapon has been rendered almost useless, and Noelle is suddenly hit with an attack from Legion as well. She’s behind them all, struggling up. Lup throws the disc at Legion again, aiming and she positions it immediately upwards of Legion’s head.

Merle is muttering some nonsense behind her, while Lucretia is running over to Lup’s side. 

Lucretia says, “I have an idea. Merle and I are about to--we’re going to do something ridiculous. Keep the mirror right there.”

Lucretia kisses her cheek.

Barry Bluejeans, from inside the mirror, says, “Look, if you think this is gonna absolve you of all that you’ve--Well, actually--”

There’s a golden light that fills the room, shutting Barry up, and making Lucretia gasp. 

Merle’s arm is glowing, and it’s sprouting, like his God has heard him out and is trying to save them all. 

She feels like something should be clicking right now, in her mind, like something should make sense, but it doesn’t. Her brain fuzzes over. 

Lucretia does a hand motion, Merle does the same. They both cast Banishment. And the creature--it falls back into the mirror, each soul individually popping. 

There should be fanfare, but there isn’t. Everyone’s quiet. Staring at each other. Julia pulls Carey up, and Lucretia hands Noelle her staff, to use as a cane. Lup tosses the Umbra to Carey, who leans over it.

Maureen is revived, and the robot holding her is saying, mechanical, but oddly nasal, “What the  _ fuck  _ was that?”

Julia limps over to Maureen, points her sword at the woman’s neck, and the robot gets into fighting stance. 

“Don’t,” says Maureen, waving her hand, 

“You fucked up, Miller,” says Julia, “You can’t just _toy_ with _death--”_  

“Not to shit on your very good point,” Barry Bluejeans says, a bit nervous-looking, “But you did too--”   
  
“I wasn’t aware of it,” Julia mutters, “She was.”

“It was for my _son,_ imagine losing your _family,_ what you wouldn’t do--” 

A few voices chime in through the null suits at once. 

Hekuba eventually takes over, dismissing the other two clear voices of the Captain and Angus. She says, “Can you read me? Are the seven of you--are you secure?” 

“Killian’s not with us,” says Carey, “She’s on her way back to base, got injured, and we’re all pretty banged up, but we’re safe.”

“I was worried--all of you are safe? I’ll--I’ll be sure to grab Killian ASAP, uh--”

“Are you in possession of the Stone?” asks the Captain.

“Putting it lightly,” says Merle. 

“What--”

“Lup ate it!” says Julia, clearly still a bit disturbed by Lup’s action. 

“Fucking--what the hell, Lup.”

“It was for science,” she shrugs, “I just shrugged, this isn’t a--this isn’t a visual medium of communication.” 

He sighs. Hekuba pipes back up, says, “Is there any immediate first aid we should set up?” 

“Merle lost an arm,” says Julia. 

“You removed his arm,” says Noelle, “In fairness.”   
  
Lucretia adds, “‘Lost’ implies some passivity to it.”   
  
“Alright, alright, and--is Maureen with you?” asks the captain.   
  
Julia puts a finger to her lips, and Lup abides.The rogue closes her eyes, and says, “Maureen’s dead.”

That’s a lie, and an extremely Un-Julia move. She’s the angriest at Maureen. 

“She died,” Julia repeats, “This ghost thing, it--it went and killed her. Burnt her to oblivion.”

 “That’s heavy,” says Hekuba, “Uh, we’re--we’re going to hang up now. Set things up. Angus, come with me--”

The Captain says, “Best wishes--” 

“Yeah.”

There’s static.

And then. 

“What the hell are you doing?” ask Carey and Lucretia at the same time.

“I’m figuring that out right now,” Julia’s calmer than usual.

Merle and Noelle doing some healing on Maureen, while her son stares Julia down. Lup stands by her side.

In a burst of feathers, a man appears from nowhere. Barry, clearly. He looks like a pretty normal human, save the robes and the scythe.

“Okay, here’s the fuckin’ deal,” says Barry, and he sighs, “You all saved me, yada-yada-yada.”   
  
“Yes, and? Dude, we’re trying to resolve this--”

“I’m just gonna say--look, Lup, Julia, Lucretia, Merle, I’m gonna--I’m gonna call off your bounties. Consider it a gift. If y’all fuck up again, though--”

“Yeah, yeah we die forever, cool.”   
  
“Lucas, though--I need to bring you with me.”

“But--”

“Did you help out in that fight? I don’t remember you helping out in that fight. Vote on it?” Barry surveys the room, and then continues, “Yeah, you got five minutes.”

He disappears in another burst of feathers. 

Maureen stares at them, and says, “This is--”

“If I see your ass again,” says Julia, “I’ll kill you off for real.” 

“That’s fair, that’s entirely--Lucas,” she says, “I’m sorry I dragged you into this--”  
  
“I would’ve done the same, Mom,” he says, “Probably would’ve fucked up twice as bad.”  
  
Maureen touches his head, as if ruffling his hair. And he hugs her. 

And he says, “I’m ready.”

And the light in his chest fades, and he disappears. 

Maureen cries. 

And time freezes again. Maureen, Carey, and Noelle do not move, do not blink. The room fills with light.

The robot says, in a voice without any semblance of a soul,  

“I saw all of existence, all at once. I saw a dark storm, a living hunger, eating it from within. But I saw a brilliant light heralded by eight birds flying tirelessly from the storm. I saw eight birds.”

Julia grips her sword. 

“I saw eight birds. The twins. The protector. The peacemaker. The storyteller. The leader. The conductor. The survivor.”

And it repeats that list, “The twins. The protector. The peacemaker. The storyteller. The leader. The conductor. The survivor.”

Lucretia writes it down. It repeats it again, and again, and again, and again, until time resumes its flow.

“What the fuck,” says Lup. 

“What?” asks Noelle.

“Nothing,” the four of them chorus, understanding each other. 

“Alright,” Carey sighs, and says, “Maureen, nice not knowing you. Fuck you.”

Merle, Carey, and Noelle exit the room. Lup brings the sapphire disk down to the ground.

“Barry?” Lucretia asks.

“Yes?”

“Can you--if Odelia is in there, can you tell her I’m sorry--”

“If Steven Waxmen is in there, can you tell him I love him--” adds Julia.

Lup does not contribute. 

“I’ll try,” says Barry, and the disc goes blank, and shatters. 

They arrive back a few minutes after Carey, Noelle, and Merle. Carey and Killian are on the ground, making out furiously, which, corny, but fine, and the Captain is staring at them.

Removing the relic from Lup is a long and painful process that Lup knocks herself out for. She think it involves Stone Skin, and she is not super into that, but hey, she wakes up and she’s only a little bit sore, so.

Angus is in their dorm, still, when they arrive back, and he gives each of the three of them as tight of a hug as his scrawny form can manage.    
  
“There was a package left for you!” he says, and hands them a plastic-wrapped bundle, “I wanted to peak, but then I thought it might be cursed, so--”   
  
“Yeah. Go get some--” Lup tightens his bowtie, “Go get some Candlenights snacks, kid. We can deal with the cursed items.”   
  
“Yes, ma’am!”

And he exits, after a few more hugs and some recaps of how worried he’s been all day. 

Lup opens the package onto the couch. Lucretia and Julia peer over her shoulders. 

Three patches--black, circular, with something unreadable in the center. Surrounding that, a rainbow of circles. A note says  _ FOR YOUR EYES ONLY. _

Julia places the vial the Red Robe gave next to them, and says, “These are all probably things we should destroy.”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“We’ll get around to it.” 

They place the items in a basket in the kitchen, never to touch, but never to dispose of. There’s something about all of them that seem familiar, in a way none of them can quite place. 

The Candlenights bush is lit as Lup crawls into bed next to Lucretia.  

“So, with Death earlier, you said something--”  
  
“Someone from home,” says Lucretia, “I made a mistake a long time ago.” 

“Yeah,” says Lup, “You know, I know I don’t--I don’t talk much about my past, but if you ever need to--”

“I don’t.”

“I’m just--I’m tryin’ to be sincere, babe.”   
  
Lucretia laughs.

“You don’t need to talk to me about--I’ve said before, I don’t want to seem like a tragic figure.”   
  
“Just--you can talk to me, y’know?”

Lucretia kisses her forehead, “And you can talk to me, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im Gay And Im Really Excited For One Part Of The Next Lunar Interlude. Stay Tuned. I Have Gotv Until Wednesday Though So It Might Take Some Time.
> 
> if you comment or leave kudos, i love you. i gotta go cook dinner now love you byeeee.
> 
> also i've only linked this here once, but this [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/spacesnail/playlist/32U9pSudzRFHJfoeVRvX26) is the Mood playlist for this fic and is pretty much all i listen to when i'm writing it. not necessarily with lyrics, in all cases, but, with some, but. whatever.


	22. LOVE AS A CONCEPT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That last relic retrieval was a little bit rough, so it's about time the girls have some fun. 
> 
> Julia and Killian teach each other some stuff about the world and, also, about punching. Lup and Angus go to a doctor and see a show. Lucretia and Merle have an uncomfortable, if ultimately nice conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fluff time!
> 
> 1\. some notes on the events of each vignette:  
> 1a. i have only sculpted with metal 3 times, and i am not very good at it. i am, however, very good at fighting, in my opinion. self defense classes really do help!  
> 1b. the concept of a fantasy orthodontist terrifies me. also, writing this, i realized how bummed i am that i couldn't go to the live cooking show that ted allen of chopped fame did near me recently.  
> 1c. merle is good.
> 
> 2\. It's Parallels Time.
> 
> 3\. i have to wake up in six hours to knock on doors. kill me, please.

Julia thinks she could have been a teacher in another life. She’s got two protégés at the Bureau, now--Angus is getting ridiculously good at magic, and Killian is slowly, but steadily improving at metalworking. 

The keyword, for Killian, is “slowly.” She’s not bad at it, per se, she’s just a bit clumsy with the tools. It’s probably for the best--focusing on Killian not stabbing her own arm is fending off Julia’s flame-related panic.

Killian’s got a nasty looking burn on her hand and a rough, but complete, when it comes down to it, model of a dog, when they stop for the day.

“I feel like I should be payin’ you something, Jules,” says Killian, “You’re--you’re really helping me out. I needed an outlet.”

“You don’t owe me anything, man--”

“Nah, I should at least teach you something, too--”  
  
And she blurts, “Teach me how to fight, then.”

“You’re good at fighting, though--”  
  
“Yeah, but I’m not--You’re a _fighter_. You’re a tank, dude, like--I wanna be able to protect Lup and Cretia. Y’know? I always feel like I’m focusing on myself, more than them, and, not to be rude, but arcanists are never the--y’know, they’re not the best at taking hits. You can teach me fighter stuff, if you wanna teach me something.”

 “I _am_ fucking good at fighter-ing.”  
  
“You’re a punchlord, Kill. Punchlady?”  
  
“Punchlady, yeah. So, dojo tomorrow?”

“Yeah!”

She’s wrapping her knuckles the next morning, when Lucretia, perched in some dark corner of the room--she’s always perched somewhere, it’s kind of creepy--says, “Got a brunch date?”  
  
“It’s six AM, fuckhead. Killian’s gonna teach me how to punch better.”  
  
Lucretia doesn’t say anything, but she probably raises her eyebrows or makes some other Lucretia-esque sign of acknowledgment.

“You want coffee?” asks Lucretia, “It’s good before workouts, I think.”

“Hell yeah. You got that trail mix you make?”

“It’s gorp.”  
  
“Same thing,” she waves her hand.

“I don’t have it. Also, coffee might be cold. I woke up at three.”  
  
“Asshole. I’d punch your arm if I could see you. Also, fix your sleep sched.”  
  
“Art never sleeps.”

“That’s--you always call me out for being corny, and you just said _that._ ”  
  
“Fair enough. Enjoy punching.” 

Killian has a full obstacle course set up, and doesn’t give any greetings other than, “Run through it.”

And she does, and she does it pretty damn well, if she can say so herself. She does enough flips to put Carey to shame. 

“You get an F,” says Killian, “Fighter training rule one: take shit head on. If you see an obstacle, run straight at it. Don’t flip over it.”

“You’re like, co-president of flips, though.” 

“Yeah, because those are team maneuvers; I flip straight at shit. Not over it.” 

“But the one big hit’s what matters, you gotta defend yourself pre--” 

“Fighter training, not rogue-reinforcement. You gotta learn how to take the big hit.” 

“Your fiancée would beg to differ.” 

“Someone’s gotta take the big hit for her. It works out well.” 

“Yeah,” she says, “yeah.”

And Killian throws a punch, which she blocks. She hits back, hard as she can, and so on, and so forth. She’s sparred before, but sparring Killian in this moment is different. Killian’s moving in ways Julia wouldn’t think to--motions that are blatant in intention, that are somehow showboaty without extravagance.  

These training sessions go on for a few weeks, with metalworking classes in between. Neither of them are perfect at the other’s Thing, but there’s an understanding of imperfection as an essential part of learning. Killian’s clumsier handiwork gives her a distinct style. Julia’s incorporation of magic into her melee gives her the upper hand in a lot of fights.

And hey, they take turns treating for drinks. That’s nice. 

“So how’s wedding planning?” asks Julia on Killian’s night to pay.

“Fucking rough.”

“Yeah, wedding planning’s like that, man,” she takes a sip of her brandy.

“You ever planned a wedding?”  
  
She pauses, “Nah, man,” even though she feels like she has. Weird.

“Carey’s family’s--Carey’s family is Carey’s family. She’s not--she’s not out, so it’s--she’s a little bit nervous ‘bout the whole thing, trying to ease her way into it.”  
  
“That why she’s always on solo surface missions?”  
  
“Guess? I’unno. We both got our own private shit. Plus, we can’t agree on napkin colors.” 

“Just go with white?”

“That’s so boring, though.”  
  
“I didn’t take y’all as the traditional wedding types. I’d just get hitched real fast, if I were you two.”

“I want it to be special, though, Julie, she’s--she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. And she’s so smart and,” Killian hiccups, “And tough and good at fighting and hot, and, _dude,_ like--we gotta make it important.”

“Feel that. You two are so good.”

“Yeah,” says Killian, “We are.”

\-- 

“Okay, little man,” says Lup, “I am not doing this ever again, just so you know. But show me the way.”

“That’s fair, ma’am.”

They’re in Neverwinter, because Angus has an orthodontist’s appointment and needs parental accompaniment. Or adult accompaniment. She’s claiming to be his ward, because, apparently, Angus’ parents are shitty, and he ran away. But the kid still needs his braces tightened. So she got dragged into this, because Julia was busy and Lucretia said no.

They’re picking up ice cream, even though it’s hardly March, and it’s fucking cold in Neverwinter, despite the name.

“You sure you wanna eat eight metric fucking tons of sugar before going to the tooth doctor?”

“You know the ice cream on base is bad.”

“I also know you’re lactose intolerant, kiddo.”

“It’s my only weakness,” he licks his ice cream, “Then why’d buy me this, ma’am?”

“Cuz I like cookies and cream, Aang, and you wouldn’t shut up about it.”

There’s a poster on the side of the ice cream wagon for Sizzle it Up!, in town tonight, which she directs Angus away from before he can suggest staying around to see a Good Times Cooking Show. Which he does anyway, because she can’t have anything.

Angus chats all the way to the orthodontist’s office, about some mystery about maps that he’s working on that he just can’t seem to solve.

She introduces herself under a fake name that Angus gives her, Aeris Me’ori, evocation master from Rockport, heir to the evocation guild once that prick Danny dies—she tries out a new character voice, which Angus does not seem to enjoy. She deserves respect for her dedication to acting, she thinks. Fuck the critics.

Angus only takes fifteen minutes or so, which is enough time for Lup to read three magazine articles about Sizzle it Up!, one thinkpiece about, oddly enough, Lucretia, and seventeen advice questions, each one somehow worse in content than the last. She’s halfway through a question about lemons when Angus, frowning more than Lup has seen him frown before, emerges, ushered out by the doctor, who tells her, loudly, “two months,” to which she nods. She steals the magazine she was reading, just so she can show Lucretia and Julia how fucking bad it is.

“You want more ice cream?” she asks.

“It hurts,” he says, with a slight lisp.

“Yeah, yeah, boy detective.”

“We’re still seeing the cooking show tonight, ma’am, even if I can’t eat the sample!”

She sighs, says “Fine,” and leaves Lucretia a message (because she’s off somewhere or another) saying that she’ll be back late, and also that she’s gonna tell Taako all sorts of embarrassing shit about Lucretia’s life.

The show is a bit less adrenaline-filled than the one she half-paid attention to in Sanche, but it’s fun, and Taako is definitely a showman. Angus makes the same comment that Julia and Lucretia have made, that she looks like him, which makes her a bit uncomfortable, and which she _does not see at all._

She goes up to pick up the free samples, Angus by her side—it’s soup, so he can eat it, which he’s very excited about.

“Well, if it isn’t Lupita,” the other elf smiles, smug.

“Lup,” she says.

“This you and Lucretia’s kid?”

“We didn’t even get together til we met you, how would we have a ten year old human child?”

“Adoption? I’ve had boyfriends with older kids,” he rolls his eyes, “I don’t know you. Also, re, ‘we-didn’t-get-together-until-we-met-you, thank you for letting me put Very Good Matchmaker Slash Actual Cupid on my resume.” 

“You’re holdin’ up the line, assholes!” yells some dude behind them.

“This is a family-fucking-friendly show,” says Taako, “No swearing.”

Angus’ eyes shift. 

“Sir,” he says, “Uh, can we just have our soup?”

“We’ll talk later, Lulu, Agnes.” 

“Did you say—Agnes?” 

“Maybe I did.” 

He shoos them off, hands them their soup.

Lup sips at it, and Angus says, “You two really are similar. Could be long-lost siblings.” 

She laughs, “That’s not a thing.” 

“I don’t know, in _Caleb Cleveland_ book seventeen—“

“How many of those are there?” 

“Twenty-three, so far, but, in book seventeen, Caleb meets his long lost twin brother, Caleb Cincinnati.”

“Same first name?” 

“They have good plots, if not the best continuity, ma’am.”

“But it’s plots, dude, not my real life. I don’t have long lost siblings.” 

“You never know,” says Angus. 

Taako doesn’t talk to them later.

The soup is fucking great, though.

\--

Lucretia was guilt-tripped into this by Hekuba, okay? And the poor guy—Merle deserves company, and he’s a good fellow, so the least she can do is keep him company on his spa day, which the Captain granted him as a special treat for a traumatic injury. Which, fine, she’s never been offered a spa retreat despite risking life-and-limb, nor have Julia and Lup, but she’s not mad. She stopped being mad at things years ago. Not her style. 

She does really wish she would get paid spa days, though. 

“Why’d you invite me on this trip?” she asks, “I mean, I know you asked the Captain and Hecuba first, but—why did I make the top three, is my question, I suppose.”

“You deserve a break,” he says, “You’re so uptight. I worry.” 

She shifts, uncomfortably. She doesn’t like people analyzing her, or worrying about her. That’s her job to do to other people. Merle takes a bite out of his cucumber sandwich. She takes a larger sip of wine than she should.

And then, she decides, she might as well get a good story out of this. Interview with a cranky old dwarf gardner that sells her girlfriend bad weed, on occasion.

“How do you keep the faith?” she asks, “I mean, without a definite entity to be faithful to, I guess. I have the Great Old One, but they’re—they’re not really tangible. It’s not really faith, with me, so much as just. Cooperation. I give them a way to manifest. But you—your relationship with God fascinates me, Merle.” 

“Tryin’ to get a scoop?” 

“I’m a biographer, Merle.” 

“It’s easy to believe in things when whatever you believe in supports you back. I believe in joy, and I believe in life, and I suppose my God, whoever they may be, does as well. And I’m happy! I got magic, got a new arm when shit went south. I pray and talk about how I believe in the world, or whatever the fuck, and God treats me well back.”

“That’s—that’s really interesting, Merle. It’s a—it’s an outlook I admire. Good ideology. Etcetera.”

“Why do you let your Great Old One, or whatever,” his wooden arm, in a pot by the spring’s side, makes air quotes around the Great Old One’s name, “Why do you let ‘em stay with you, if you don’t have faith?” 

She does not like to talk about herself.

“They give me magic, which is rather nice, yeah? And they’re not evil, or anything. They used to possess me, on occasion, but I put a stop to _that_ situation rather young. Now we dream commune and that’s about it.” 

“When’d you start letting them in?”

“Seventeen. When did you forget your God?”

“The—the incident, as me and Dav call it—“

“Dav being the Captain,” says Lucretia, thinking, _cute nickname._  

“Yeah, he found me right after, helped me get back on my feet, uh, after the incident happened ‘bout ten years ago. He was just starting up the Bureau, needed a right hand—though, not sure that’s an appropriate title anymore,” he pauses for laughter, which Lucretia does not grant him, “So it wasn’t long after you found your god, huh?

“Five or six years between the events, yes.”

Merle sighs, says, “I envy you, kid.”

“Pardon?”

“Folks _like_ you. Don’t pity you or—“

“I don’t pity you.”

“Sure ya don’t. I’m a cleric without a god, don’t have any real prospects outside of the Bureau, never gonna get married or have kids—probably for the better, that, I woulda been a shitty dad.”

 “I don’t think you would’ve been a shitty dad,” says Lucretia, “You’re better than my real parents. And my parents weren’t shitty, necessarily, they were—they were alright. But you’re better than alright.”

“Don’t say that just to make me feel better, Lucretia.” 

“Merle, I’m not—I’m not lying. I don’t enjoy lying as much as you might think.” 

He changes the subject, “So, you and Lup, then,” and he raises his eyebrows.

“We’re together. We’re happy that way. No further comment.”

“You’re a writer, you’re not gonna go into sonnets?”

“I prefer the stories of others, Merle.”

“You’re the hero, though, aren’t ya?”

“In one story, I suppose, but that’s not the one I want to tell.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave comments and kudos love you byeeee
> 
> also. i've never finished nano but i somehow broke 50k words with this dumb fic. incredible


	23. CUE GUITAR TWANGS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to get rustic as we enter the delightful town of Refuge, where nothing goes wrong ever, okay? Everything's totally fine and nothing bad's gonna happen.
> 
> Julia gets rustic. Lucretia draws a map. Lup rushes in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FAVORITE ARC TIME, oh geez. gotv was hell and i'm still wiped from it but now i get to write time travel AND rustic towns AND exposition-y angst, hell YEAH.
> 
> thanks to @bluestonewings! 
> 
> 1\. "ditto, did you base this on majora's mask?" is a thing trav said about this arc that i totally forgot about. i need to replay that game. just thought i'd say here.  
> 2\. i've got a southern accent w/ some appalachian hints to it, when i'm not trying to hide it. i'm not trying to make fun of folks with those accents, and when it REALLY seems like i am making fun of it, i am 100% being self-deprecating.  
> 3\. GOD i love this arc so MUCH  
> 4\. also how bout that episode today

So here’s the situation: the three of them are in a desert, with only Avi and Hekuba as company, and those two aren’t even gonna stick around for long, because their whole purpose is to launch the three of them into the time-locked bubble that the next relic-- a relic which the Captain had monologued about for a solid ten minutes, most of which Lup had tuned out, because it was getting a little bit too personal and emotional for her to bear--is located in. They’d just been attacked by Purple Worms, which Lup insisted upon sparing, because holy shit, they’re just babies. Everyone, even Avi, feels a little pity for the worms after that, but Hekuba, who, in all fairness, was almost chewed on by a large worm, is vocally protesting Lup’s proposal.

“Those things are going to grow up and turn into monsters,” she says, insistent.

“So can anything. Or anyone.”

“They—Lucretia? They eat flesh.”

“They’re gone anyway,” says Avi.

“I’m just--do any of you have a sense of self-preservation?” Hekuba asks.

“Nope!” Julia and Lup say, in unison. They immediately turn to each other and high-five, with a satisfying smack.

“Corny of you two.” says Hekuba, “Listen, I do--I worry about you three.”

“We haven’t failed yet,” says Lucretia, patting Hekuba on the shoulder.

“Heck, we got this relic retrieval shit down to a science,” says Lup, “There’s no need to mother us over it, we’re good.”

“I just--I’m not sure I agree with the Captain’s policy of doing whatever’s best for the greater good, alright? He sent me down here to help man the cannon, not--not caring whether I live or die, and he sends you three on these dangerous missions--”

“We took the jobs,” says Julia.

“We forced them on you. I just--this organization is flawed.”

“Yeah,” says everyone else.

“Unrelated, I’m just realizing this looking at you, but the buzzed look is very good on you, Lucretia.”

Lucretia, along with her companions, had readied herself for the desert heat by basically buying out the entire Fantasy Costco stock of shorts and skirts; like most Fantasy Costco clothing sections, it was ultimately disappointing in terms of variety, but got the job done vis-a-vis practicality. Lucretia had decided to chop all her hair off, buzzing it, whereas Julia had opted for a bob, and Lup had kept her hair long. There had been a team meeting about group aesthetics, and, while no one cared too much, it was still nice to coordinate.

“Thank you, we were--we were worried about the heat, so Lup made us--”

“Hot Summer Looks™,” says Lup, “It’s--it’s vital.”

“But--back on topic, my point is, if you three die in this time bubble, we might not be able to find you, and we’ll never know if you’re dead or alive! We have--it’s just unreasonable. There has to be a better way to get these items.”

“But there isn’t,” says Lucretia, “And again, we’ve already done this five times before. If we don’t get out of this, that’ll break a longstanding tradition.”

Hekuba sighs and shakes her head, but doesn’t argue further. There’s quiet for a few minutes, as Avi and Hekuba fix up the device they’re using to shoot the team into the bubble. Lup quizzes herself on Divination--it was never really her specialty, back in school, but she was decent enough at combatting it.

“S’hot as balls out,” says Avi, and he wipes sweat off of his brow, “Okay, buds, jump in the bomb.”

They do. Inside the metal sphere, their movement slows, like they’ve started moving through mud. Some sort of spell, perhaps.

“You’ll be going super fast,” says Avi, “so buckle up,”

And they go very, very fast. Lup swears her skin is falling off because of the sheer speed, but then, it stops, and everything goes white. In this white space, an old woman stands, staring at them, wrinkled and hunched over. She is holding an ornate, silver chalice. The relic.

She says, staring at Julia, “It’s you.”

 

Lup tries to speak, but her voice doesn’t come out.

“Find me,” says the woman.

And they wake up, face down in sun-warmed sand. Lup pushes herself off the ground, spits out red dirt, and surveys the area in front of her. Lucretia and Julia do the same.

It’s a small town, which seems to thrill Julia. There’s a gate in front, made of wood, inscribed with “BY THEIR SACRIFICE, OUR HOME IS MADE SAFE”. The town itself is very rustic, from what Lup can see, and standing in front of the gate is a knight with a tiny red bird on their shoulder. They’re about as wide as they are tall, and they are a lot of both. The joints on their armour is full of some sort of reddish goo, which might be blood or possibly pudding. Either or. They also have this yellow glow to them that Lup can’t quite place the magical source of.

“Please identify yourselves,” the bird says, voice slightly shrill. Lucretia blinks, but she quickly pastes a look of mild interest on to hide her surprise.

“Uh, hi bird friend,” says Julia, “I’m--I’m Julia, these are my friends Lucretia and Lup, we’re adventurers--”

“And we’re--we got word that this town is a pretty chill place to take a break from it all, y’know?” says Lup, doing her best to sound offhand and fooling nobody,“Y’know? Society. Pssh.”

“Do you.” Julia deadpans, then turns around and whispers, “Lup, Lup, look at me. Which of us is more fucking rustically hospitable?” She glares at Lup, then turns around when the bird speaks again.

The bird says, “You came here--like--you came here casually?”

“Why wouldn’t we?” asks Lucretia, “Your town seems very... sweet.”

“I reck--” begins Lup, but Julia cuts her off, shakes her head.

“Just--don’t--don’t do that. Don’t--don’t try,” Julia’s voice changes a bit and develops an affectation that Lup has heard to a lesser degree before--her accent, “Uh, bird friend, we just wanna help y’all in this town, y’know? With your problem.”

“What--what problem?”

“The bubble,” says Julia.

“That’s not--look, we don’t really get many visitors, so how ‘bout I just take the three of you over to the sheriff’s office while we figure things out. Sheriff Isaak can figure this out.”

The knight-bird escorts them into town, and it’s almost adorable. A tiny general store, a saloon, a bunch of cobble-together houses, and a bank, more solidly built than the rest of the buildings. There’s a clock tower, indicating that it’s 11:07. Everything is slightly red, like the dirt that the wind keeps whipping up.

And then, there’s the statue. Tall, made of metal, with patches of its original color still hanging on. It shows a young human girl, a human man--about Julia’s or Lucretia’s age, Lup guesses. And, behind them, a figure with its features covered in a red cloak. A Red Robe.

“What,” says Lup.

“Uh, bird,” says Julia, “Just askin’, not to intrude, but--”

“I’m--I have a name--”

“What’s that, then?”

“It’s Roswell.”

“Well, Roswell, can I just inquire as to what that statue’s portrayin’? That red is very striking.”

“Well, that’s--that depicts a very important event in our town’s history. That’s the Visitor, bringing the Father and Daughter to our town. And by their sacrifice, our home is made safe.”

“How long ago was the sacrifice, if it gave y’all a motto?”

“Year and a half?”

Lucretia chimes in, “And what did--what did this visitor look like?”

“Nobody really saw the figure in the robe except for Sheriff Isaak, so I don’t know. I’ve heard word that he was big and broad and strong. And nice, I guess, and I shouldn’t say he, I don’t even know. But whatever they were, they were big and strong.”

“Dope.”

Roswell sits the three of them down in the sheriff’s office.

“Are you an elemental, Roswell?” asks Lucretia. Lup goes oh, softly, behind her.

“Intrusive, but, uh, yeah-” Roswell breaks off, hearing shouting from outside, “-uh, sorry, there’s--there’s something going on out there, can you three just sit in here while I go work?”

“Yeah, sure,” says Lup.

Roswell, knocking over a few things as they leave, exits.

Lup grabs a map of the town--Refuge, it’s called--off the wall, and Lucretia, peeking over her shoulder, sketches it out. Julia is intently trying to fix one of the shoddy chairs in the office.

A voice from the cells on the other side of the office, yells, “Who the hell are you fools?”

Julia looks up from her chair, and walks over to the cells--Lup follows, but Lucretia continues sketching out the map. There’s only one cell occupied. The occupant is a burly, messy-looking half-orc woman, staring at them bug-eyed.

“Hi!” says Julia, cheerily.

“Who the hell are you?”

“I’m Julia, this is Lup, we’re just two adventurers lookin’ for a place in this world. Who’re you?”

“I’m Cassidy!” says the woman, “Are you here to kill us?”

“What?” asks Lup, “Look, I got--we got a hella rough track record with towns we stumble into, but--”

“Cassidy, look, we’re good folks, I think, we’re just--look, why are you in the Sheriff’s office?”

“I’ve been falsely accused, lady,” says Cassidy, a bit sad.

“Oh no!” says Julia, “That’s a piss-poor situation, Cass. What’re they sayin’ you did?”

“They said I blew up the temple. I don’t blow up any damn temples, I blow up the earth! I get out those diamonds from under ‘em. Best there ever was, that’s sure as shit true. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.”

She spits onto the ground.

“Aw, Cass, I’m sorry, hon, I believe ya.”

“You’re a miner?” asks Lup.

“Gotta get those diamonds. And thanks, Junie, I think I like you.”

“Cassie, can I just--I got some questions about this town’s history; again, we’re adventurers, we’re searchin’ for the truth, just like I think you are, huh?”

“Aw, fuck, I love truth-searchin’,” says Cassidy.

“Yeah, I thought you might, hon,” Julia smiles, “Uh, I’m just curious as to what the sacrifice everyone’s goin’ on about might be?”

“Well, I’m sorta the underground-stickin’ type, but I know the bubble came up to protect us from outsiders like you--”

“Look, we’re good people. Can I ask about Isaak?” Lup has her own questions, okay, and she has every goddamn right to ask them. Julia nods at her, because it’s a good fucking question.

“Well, he’s a good sheriff--”

“And the manor, over there,” says Julia, “What rich fool lives in there?”

“That’s Sheriff Isaak too, he’s the town elder, which I guess means he gets a nicer house than the rest of us--”

Julia groans.

“Look, Cassie, you want me to pop you outta this joint?”

Lucretia has walked over by now, and is watching, with some judgment, Julia pick open Cassidy’s cell.

And then, there’s a tremor.

Cassidy’s cell door opens widely, and the woman dashes out.

“You wanna check out town?” Julia asks, “Don’t think Roz’ll be too huge on us breaking out the only prisoner, plus, there’s trouble, which we’re good at stopping.”

“Let’s explore,” says Lucretia, “The Davy Lamp looks nice, I’ll say.”

“That the saloon?”

“Yeah.”

“Nice.”

Roswell spots them as soon as they exit.

“What the--I fuckin’ told you to stay in there!”

“We saw there was trouble, and that orc woman broke out post-tremor, so we thought we’d come help out,” says Lucretia, calmly, like herself, “We’re fixers. That’s our--that’s our lives’ work. We’re sent by--various groups to fix things. We were sent here to fix the bubble.”

“The bubble is here for our safety,” says Roswell. Smoke is in the air, Lup notices, and it’s coming from the bank, Roswell interrupts their own thought with, “What the--? We--we haven’t had this much shit in forty-five minutes since today, so I’m not sure you’re fixing so much as destroying the fucking peace!”

“We can help with the fire,” says Lup. Julia is frozen. She’s getting better, but that’s in controlled areas, this is bad, “Julie, stay--stay with Roswell, Cretia and I got this.”

“I’m coming with you,” says Roswell, “I’m the deputy, I’m--I don’t know shit about you. You might’ve fucking caused the fire--”

“I’m coming,” says Julia, “I--there’s people to help.”

And the four of them rush into the bank.

It’s chaos. Everything is on fire, everyone is screaming.

Lup casts Fire Shield on herself, allowing herself to resist the pain of the flames. Julia has simply run in, alongside Roswell, and Lucretia has teleported.

A drow woman in an vest lies in the bank. She’s dead.

A young, half-elf man in a poncho lies in the bank. He’s dead.

Two guards lie in the bank. They’re dead.

Two rough-looking people in purple kerchiefs lie in the bank. They’re dead.

A dwarf woman stands behind the teller’s window. She is not dead. She is, after a moment, in Julia’s arms, and Julia is running out of the bank.

Three more people in purple are fighting with Roswell, and Lup runs over to them, tells Roswell, “Look, I dunno your deal with these folks, but it’s time to leave.”

Julia has run back into the bank, but Lucretia grabs her, and gestures for Lup to run too.

“Roswell, let’s--run, Ros--”

A pillar falls, burning, and it crushes Roswell, along with the three people in kerchiefs.

Lup runs. Julia is frozen, Lucretia dragging her out.

The clock tower shows that it is, just now, noon.

The clock tower chimes.

And there’s a tremor. It’s larger than the one earlier, and it’s terrifying.

The clock chimes again.

Cracks spread throughout the ground, and fire fills them, and Julia screams. Lup grabs her shoulder, and Lucretia grab’s Lup’s arm. The clock tower chimes ten more times, as clock towers tend to. And then, it snaps in half, crushes some homes.

And the ground underneath them falls, and Lup can feel something almost electric rising out of her body as she begins to die.

See, there’s something about the dying that feels almost familiar.

And then, she’s back in the white space. Julia, keeled over, is on one side of her, and Lucretia, stiff, on the other.

“You’ll have to do better than that,” says the old woman.

And then, Lup wakes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. MY podcast which is. dumb jokey bullshit is probs going up this weekend, so, uh, check my tumblr for details on that, once it launches. (gotta self-promo, cha feel?)  
> 2\. i love you guys who read this a whole bunch, okay?  
> 3\. comments + kudos are beautiful  
> 4\. I'M DONE WITH GOTV so i have TIME now. god bless.


	24. IT'S THE FUTURE I CAN SEE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for some Groundhog Day Slash Majora's Mask Type Shenanigans for our girls. Which mostly means that they're gonna spend this time trying to figure out what the fuck is going on.
> 
> Julia gets her flirt on. Lucretia fixes it up. Lup gets her fortune told.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> julia/ren forever and always thank you good night
> 
> enjoy

Roswell greets them, as they did previously, and Lup and Julia are both shaken in their own ways, so Lucretia takes this into her own hands. 

“Hi,” she says, trying to be charismatic in the way Julia and Lup tend to succeed at more than her, “Uh, I’m Lucretia Olatunji, Neverwinter Oracle, we’re here to profile Sheriff Isaak? He—he should have told you about us.”

“Um,” says Roswell.

“You’re Roswell, right?” asks Lucretia, “Isaak told us you’d be out here. Look, I can call him right now, but he told us to just spend some time at the Davy Lamp, said he’d meet up with us there? This is—this is my intern, Julia, and my editor, Lup, they’re—they’re a bit shaken from the bubble-passing.” 

“How did you get past the bubble?”

“The Oracle is—they only supply us with the best technology.”

The Oracle actually paid very poorly and was a generally shitty place to work, but, hey, she doubts they get the Oracle in the bubble.

And Roswell sighs, says, “Fine, but—if you do anything shady, I’ll be keeping my eye on you.”

“Thanks, Ros. You two, c’mon, let’s get a drink.”

And they land in the Davy Lamp, and Lucretia addresses them, says, “Alright, we made it. I’m not—I think this might be a Fantasy Groundhog Day type situation.”

“Pardon?” asks the bartender, leaning over the bar, “You’re new.”

She’s pretty, in the small-town girl sense, a drow, seems sweet. 

“We’re reporters,” says Julia, still clearly a bit out of it, “We have a profile we’re doin’ in town, we’re just—we’re discussin’ our approach, ma’am. Who might you be?”

“Oh, name’s Ren, I run this—this here establishment. A reporter?”

“Sure,” says Julia, “Though, I might practice my interviewin’ skills on you.”

Ren is clearly flustered. Lucretia sighs, noting that, should this actually be a time loop, they only have one hour. 

“I’ll make you a mead on the house,” says Ren, only to Julia, “I’m assumin’ y’all don’t have any diamonds, considering you’re outsiders, so.”

“How would we go about acquirin’ diamonds, you think? We’re only here for a few days or so.”

“Well, there’s the mines, though—“

“We’re not really miners." 

“Assumed so. Uh, Ash, over there, he never tips, though I know he has the funds, so if you wanna—“

 Julia has already approached the man, who Lucretia had seen dead at the bank, and, Lucretia assumes, is trying to pickpocket him.

“Look, we’re—our subject,” says Lucretia, “He’s been delaying, and—“

“Got some diamonds,” Julia smiles, “Here’s five for that mead. Ren, was it?”

 “Fuck, dude,” says Lup, “That fast?”

“Has—this is a weird question,” says Ren, “Ma’am, has anyone told you that you look a little like Taako?”

“All the time,” says Lup, “Ugh, and he’s a friend of ours, so it’s borderline uncomfortable, and—“

“You know Taako?”

“Yeah, he helped us on a miss-story in Sanche Beach.”

“God, he’s my inspiration. I saw Sizzle It Up! about two, three years ago, and it was—ugh, it changed my life.”

“I thought Sizzle It Up! ended years ago,” says Lucretia, “What with the poisoning scandal.”

“What?” 

“Never mind,” says Lucretia, “I’m a big fan, too. Can I ask—look, we’re trying to get a lay of the land, can I ask what the deal with the bubble is?”

“Oh, I’m—it came up, bout a year ago, after the Visitor’s whole—his whole thing, I’m sort of ambivalent about it, like, obviously it keeps us safe from the dangers of outside and all that, but I feel a little cooped up from time to time.” 

“Fair, hon’,” says Julia, takes a sip of her mead, “What’re the dangers of the outside?”

“Oh, y’know, the—the mines dried up, and folks—outsiders, mostly—got violent. So we set up the bubble, and—well, since then, it’s been pretty chill.”

“Back where I grew up, we coulda used a bubble,” and Julia laughs, “Oh, God. So, hon’, uh, I’m Julia, by the way, these are Lucretia and Lup, uh, we’re—we’re doin’ a profile on the Sheriff, and I—maybe we could get an insider opinion? To spice things up?”

“I like Sheriff Isaak all right. He’s not—I’m a bartender, I run a bar, and it’s important for me to keep kind of a fun, flirty atmosphere going in here, and kind of a sourpuss like him doesn’t exactly lend itself to that, but, yeah, you know. He’s doing his best. A lot of folks preferred Jack, as elder, but, y’know, he and June.”

“Dead, yeah, I heard.”

“Yeah. Y’know—I love your company, Julia, but if you wanna better—if you’re tryin’ to get your lay on the land, you should talk to Paloma.”

“Who?”

“She lives out in the woods. A lot of people don’t love that she’s just kinda out there doing her own thing, but she’s really good at helping people kinda figure out - get their bearings, so to speak. She’s a witch.”

“Love magic,” says Lup.

A few ruffians in purple kerchiefs start a fight, and Ren stops the conversation immediately to blast them out the door with her wand, which seems to smoke after she uses it. Lup seems uncomfortable, but intrigued.

 

“My own invention,” brags Ren, “Non-lethal, easy to stash.”

Julia leans over to get details, but Lup grabs her shoulder.

“Okay, it’s—it’s twenty past, we’re gonna—Julie, Cretia, let’s head over to the witch’s place.”

“Ren, uh,” Julia says, “Don’t head to the bank til—like, one PM?”

“Oh, I was—I was gonna head over soon.”

“Trust me.”

“Alright.”

The trek to Paloma’s is longer than it should be, but Lucretia knows they’re getting close because of the pure amount of divination magic ruminating around her—plus, the smell of baked goods. 

Paloma’s house is tiny, cute, full of crystals and knick-knacks; tiny serving plates full of pastries float around the room.A tiny human woman sits at a table in the center, and she says, “Hello, hello! I’ve been expecting you.”

“I’m Lucretia,” Lucretia says, “This is—this is Lup, and Julia.”

“I know this.”

“Okay, great, uh. What—what’s up?” asks Lup.

“We do a prophecy, yes?”

“You do those?”

“Yes, I do this. Ten diamonds for big prophecy, one diamond for little prophecy.”

“I got twelve diamonds,” says Julia, “Two little, one big?”

“Nice.”

“Yeah.”

And a crystal drops down, as Julia puts one diamond on the table.

Paloma’s voice changes. It echoes as she says, “Imminent destruction comes from below. Before you can learn how to stop it, you must figure out what it is you must stop. Turn your eyes to the quarry. You’re not ready to face what awaits you there, but you must know its face.”

The room is quiet for thirty seconds, and Julia places the next diamond on the table.

“Do you three want food?”

“Yes,” say all three of them, as Paloma shoves three scones apiece towards them. 

“Okay, now small prophecy.”

“Yeah, Paloma, give it to me.”

Paloma’s voice shifts again and a second crystal shatters on the table, as she says, “You will need divine intervention. You will find it at the Temple of Istus.”

“Goddess of order,” says Lucretia, recalling one religion class she did particularly well in.

“And knitting,” adds Julia, “She—she had a tiny following back home. Old lady next door was abig fan. She and the Raven Queen were—they’re pretty tight.”

“Okay, big prophecy. Ten diamonds.” 

Julia places ten more diamonds on the table. A larger crystal drops down.”

Paloma grabs Lup’s face—Lup flinches, and yells, almost, “Turn right!" 

“You getting this down, Lucretia?” asks Julia.

“Yes. My map disappeared, though, so—“

“Fuck." 

Another crystal, black with bright flecks inside, drops down.

“What?” asks Paloma, whose voice changes again, into something different. Like she’s possessed, thinks Lucretia, and she shudders, “In the future, you will be offered a terrible choice between two options that will determine the fate of reality itself. In this moment of crisis, remember. There is always a third option. “ 

“Paloma?” asks Julia, “You good?” 

Paloma wakes up from whatever trance she’s in, says, “What the hell?”

“We’ll be leaving,” says Julia, pushing the other two out with her, saying, “Quarry first, temple second.”

The ground shakes.

“Okay, quarry time, now.” 

They run, the three of them, to the quarry, which, according to Lucretia’s memory of the map, is incredibly large. And, as if they needed to have something slow them down, Cassidy is there, staring at them, ready to hit them with a large stick.

“Hi!” says Julia, “We’re--we’re friendly.”

“You’re tryin’ to take the diamonds!”

“We’re--we’re lookin’ for the Sheriff, actually!”

Cassidy tightens her grip on the branch.

“Look, uh,” says Lup, “We’re journalists, we’re--if you could just, maybe show us through the mines, that would be--that’s what we’re reporting on, the mining economy.”

“It’s very topical,” says Lucretia.

Julia waves her hands and says, “She’ll forget this, right?” and casts Charm Person.

“Good--good idea.”

“So you’re friends, right?” asks Cassidy, “Guess it can’t do too much harm. I’m Cassidy!”  


“Cassidy, a pleasure, we’re with the Neverwinter Oracle.”  
  
“Dude, we don’t have to lie,” says Julia.

“I like this façade.”

“That’s fair, that’s fair. Y’all are too into this whole role-playing thing we get into, it’s—it’s borderline weird.”

“You can give yourself a fun backstory, though.”  
  
Julia flips her hair, “My husband was killed in a terrible passion.”

Lup adds, “I have amnesia, and I cannot find my long-lost twin.”

And Lucretia finishes off the act with, “I’ve been dead the whole time.”  
  
And they laugh. Cassidy stares at them quizzically, says, “What the _fuck_ are you fools talkin’ about? Some kinda gerblin nonsense?”

“Sure,” says Julia, “Deffo gerblin shit, here, between the three of us.”

Cassidy leads them into the quarry, carefully stepping over certain spots. Bombs, Lucretia assumes. If they act to do this again, it’ll be difficult to remember those. The quarry is oddly reminiscent of the mine back near Phandalin--though, in fairness, this might just be Lucretia’s limited experience with mine interiors speaking. 

“Now, this,” says Cassidy, “Is a nifty li’l puzzle, cuz all twenty-six of us in the mines’ names started with different letters, so you gotta open ‘em one by one so it spells Disarm and then Open. I think it’s funny.”

They take an elevator down, after that, and, eventually encounter a broken wheel. Lucretia uses the Adamant Spanner to fix it, and she smirks at Julia, who was trying to fix it by hand. After a while, they spin the wheel, enter a mine cart, and head down some tracks, which, thankfully, Julia lights up, at Cassidy’s suggestion. 

And, after a while, Cassidy puts a keycard through a slot, and a door opens. And they step out of their carts, to be greeted by a sign reading SHAFT A, and a few bubbles, like the one immediately outside of town, but smaller. 

And that’s about when things go terribly, as Lucretia’s watch reads 11:58.

A large—larger than the ones earlier, and about eighty times gnarlier—purple worm emerges from the bottom of the mine, on fire, screaming. Julia readies her sword, and Lup readies her umbrella, but they are both, along with Lucretia and Cassidy, consumed by its flame. Lucretia _hurts,_ is all she can think.

And then, in the white space, she thinks, _So that’s one prophecy completed. We met our match. What’s next?_

The old woman stares at them, and stares at them, and stares at them. She clutches the cup tighter, and she says, “You’re getting very close, dears.”

And Lucretia wishes she could articulate—she’s a writer, goddamnit, why can’t she articulate it—the sense of nostalgia that this whole dying and rebirth cycle evokes in her, that it feels like she’s done it a hundred times before now.

But she can’t.

And she wakes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please comment + kudos this dang thing, if that's your jam!
> 
> i just finished planning out suffering game fully, so, oh god. i rolled everything. heart attack's gonna be some gay shit, y'all.
> 
> love ya


	25. FUCK IT, LET'S DO CRIMES

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The girls have a few more things to figure out before they can take the Chalice back to the moon. But hey, they're making progress, and that's what counts.
> 
> Lucretia takes charge. Lup is commanding. Julia gets a cool new weapon from a cool lady.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fuck, guys, the pacing of this chapter is so bad, but i'm too nervous about the chalice chapter (which i'll upload at around 6-8PM est, because it's already done), to not just get it out there. i'll probs add some of the first scene to the last chapter once i finish suffering game (i'm gonna do a lot of inconsequential edits after suffering game lmao). anyways, uh, a lot of the istus scene and some of the diary scene are pretty much straight from the transcript, which i've been mostly avoiding up until now, but there's info in those scenes that needed to stay the same to make sense, cha feel?
> 
> anyways. istus and the raven queen are fucking. i'm gonna go get some sleep.

Lucretia convinces Roswell to let them through the gate again, and they reconvene once again in the Davy Lamp. Julia is one hundred percent ready to spend more time in the Davy Lamp, because Ren is just the best. And she continues to be the best, giving Julia a drink on the house _again,_ which she offers to Lup, who looks like she needs it. 

“We need to go to the temple,” says Lucretia, “The--the witch told us that we had to seek Istus, right?”

“The Temple of Istus got blown up, miss,” says Ren, “Sorry to burst your bubble--I need to--I need to stop saying that. Y’all already burst one bubble today. That was an unintentional bubble joke.”  
  
“It’s cool, Ren,” says Julia, “Are there ruins, at least?”  
  
“Yeah, but--I never told you my name?” 

“Yeah, you did?”

“Oh, well, I--I guess I may have. Heat’s gettin’ to me, I guess.”

Julia feels immensely shitty lying to Ren, but, hey, she’ll forget this encounter ever happened, right? She shouldn’t feel bad. She shouldn’t feel bad about this at all, because it’s happening in a time loop, and in an hour’s time, Ren won’t even remember her. So, there. 

“Ren, thanks so much for your hospitality, we’re--we’re gonna go investigate the ruins,” says Lup, “For journalistic reasons.”

“Oh, you’re--you’re leaving already?”  
  
Julia touches Ren’s shoulder, “Hey, we can... chat... when we’re done, if the world doesn’t end.” 

And she smiles. The three of them leave otherwise wordlessly, though they know the whole thing with the purple kerchiefs is about to go down--Ren seems to have had a handle on that anyway.

“Smooth,” says Lucretia, “You’re ridiculous.”

Ruins was, frankly, an exaggeration of what’s left of the Temple of Istus, because there are no walls, anymore, just floorboards and maybe two feet of bricks stacked up every so often. But the three of them go in regardless, and stand by the sigil in the center of the room--tarnished, but recognizable.

“Should we--should we pray?” asks Lucretia.

“Yeah,” says Julia, and she grabs her friends’ hands, begins, “Hey, Istus, long-time listener, first-time caller. Sup. You wanna--you wanna help us?”

“Not the--not the greatest prayer, bud.”

A breeze flows across the room, lifting a white cloth, which moves out of the ruins and toward a rock formation. Julia flips Lup off, and runs toward it--Lucretia and Lup follow quickly.

The rock formation, as it turns out, is a cave, which, once the three of them are at the entrance, they realize they have to go into. Which, after the whole Phandalin fiasco and the quarry incident, isn’t really something that bodes well, but, hey, third cave’s the charm. 

Julia casts Light so that Lucretia can see, and Lucretia immediately points out the man reading a book on the far side. Lup begins the conversation.

“Hey, bud, what’s--what’s goin’ on?”   


The man is silent.

The trio approaches him.

“That guy’s--he’s super dead, y’all,” says Lup.

“All skeletal.”   


“Kinda gross looking.” 

Lucretia pokes his robes with her quarterstaff, and he says, “Don’t do that, you  _ hooligan!  _ I was asleep!”

“Okay, dude, you’re literally a skeleton, so we--we assumed you were dead.” 

“Well, I’m not! What are your names, you  _ hooligans? _ ”   
  
“I’m a--I’m a whippersnapper, actually, my name’s Lup, my man.”

“Small fry, Julia.”

“Punk, and it’s Lucretia. And yourself?”   
  
“ _ My _ name is Luca. I am the chief cleric of the temple Istus! Not that- I mean not so much anymore, but um, but yeah! That's me, alright! What are you here for?”

“Investigative journalists,” says Lucretia, “We’re doing a piece on the bubble, a cup, and a Purple Worm.”

“You’re here to stop the bubble? Here to stop what’s going on in this town?”   
  
“Sure.”

“Time is--time is  _ sick,  _ here.”

“And that’s not what Istus is about.”

“Are you a worshipper?”   
  
“Nah, but, like, Raven Queen worshippers kinda gotta respect her. Y’know?”   
  
“Ah, fair, fair.”   
  
“Tell us more about the bubble,” Lucretia urges, “What happened when it went up?”

“I was in the temple just doing my prayers, doing my scribing and such, counting the offerings, when it just… Something happened. Everything inside the temple aged very quickly… And luckily I was the only person inside, and none of my--none of the followers were hurt, but I ended up in this sorry state, and the temple ended up in its sorry state. I don’t know what did it but I suspect it’s the same as whatever is screwing up in this town. It is only by the grace of Istus that I can continue in this--sorry state. Can I--” 

“Okay, so, uh, you and Lady Istus are clearly tight, but, uh--we need to contact her.”

“I need--I need my brother. Redmond. We ran the temple together, but he--he started farming, before the bubble went out.”   
  
“He runs the farm?” asks Lucretia, “Okay, uh, it’s time to split up. Luca, you stay--just stay here. Or, uh, go to the temple. Lup, you create a distraction at the Davy Lamp, play up that we know Taako, or whatever; Julia, you’re persuasive, you get Roswell to evacuate the bank, and, if need be, distract them if one of us ends up having to go in. I’ll handle getting the brother, I--neither of you had siblings, I did. I can work that family magic. Meet at the temple at--it’s quarter past, now, uh, can we try for quarter til?”

“Can you summon a goddess in fifteen minutes, Luca?”

“Why?”

“Because we gotta--we got an interview at noon?” 

“Yes, that.” 

Luca sighs, says, “I’ll see you kids in thirty minutes, then.”

Lucretia runs out, and Lup follows soon after, casting Phantom Steed to give herself a ride. Julia yells, “Bye, Luca!” as she runs out behind them.

She finds Roswell walking toward the Davy Lamp, and, knowing Lup probably got lost or something, turns them around to let her get in. 

“Roswell! Just the earth creature I was looking for. I was wondering--I know we said we were doing a profile on the Sheriff, but--we do quite like this town, and, uh, I was just curious as to whether or not I could have a few words with you?” 

“There’s--there’s a fight goin’ on.”  
  
“Ren’s got it handled, I’d bet, she seems capable. Look, it--those ruffians seem like a pretty normal nuisance, Ren showed us this dope new spell and wand she created that can handle ‘em, and,” she sighs, and considers her usual easy out, “Look, you seem _really nice,_ like, I hate most cops, but you’re--you seem super chill, so, uh, I’m sorry.” 

She casts Charm Person.

And it fails.

“Are you trying to enchant me?” 

“That has literally never failed before. That--that fuckin’--that’s new, for me, I’m really good at that spell.”

“Well, I’m--I’m pretty hard to enchant! Are you tryin’ to pull something?”

“No, Roswell, I’m--look, I can explain, and it’s gonna sound _super ridiculous,_ but, swear on my father’s grave, I am telling the truth. My friends and I are--we’re time travellers. In about forty minutes, something _terrible_ is gonna happen in Refuge. We’ve tried a few times already to stop it, but--but we haven’t been able to do it. I need you to trust me, okay?” 

It’s not untrue.

“Wha--how did you know to come here--”

“We’re--the bubble. It’s fucking with time, in this town, and we--we’re manipulating the bubble. We came here with a different goal, but we were sort of thrust into this whole town-saving shit, so, I really need you to help me out here, okay?”

“Uh--okay, that’s--that’s really hard to believe, but I trust you for some reason?”

“Yeah, uh, that’s just sorta my whole deal. But. Um. I need you to evacuate the bank. That’s--that’s gonna catch fire, around, uh, around a quarter til, and we need to make sure people don’t get hurt. Can we fake a bank holiday, or somethin’?”

“Where are your friends?”

“There are a  _ lot  _ of puzzle pieces in this whole bubble-time-loop stitch, okay? We gotta divide and conquer before shit turns sour.”

The two of them manage to clear the bank pretty easily, which Julia is very proud of, but then, something explodes in the Davy Lamp.

“Fuck  _ me,  _ Lup.”

“Your friend caused that?”

“She’s supposed to make sure nobody leaves the saloon or gets killed in there.”

“Well, she’s not fuckin’--”

“She’s--she’s super got this. I love her a lot, she’s very good at magic and also being nice to people, which I super admire, and--”

“I--she might have hurt somebody, and my job is to make sure that other people don’t get hurt; I’m a protector, Julia.”

Julia ignores the deja vu in that statement, and nervously fidgets. Lucretia, on a horse she got from gods-know-where, comes rushing forward, and says, “Okay, Julia, you’re here, thank God; hi Roswell. I’m about to do something morally questionable, but it’s for the greater good, and I promise I won’t actually steal anything, I just--I wasted Charm Person on someone who is not Redmond, and--” 

“I blew it too, fuck.”

“You’re gonna break into the bank, then?” 

“It’s to save the town,” says Julia, “I promise it, you’ll--you and I’ll go in with her--”

Lup rushes over, says, “Okay, that’s--that’s handled, I fucked up, my bad, we can fix that up next time.”

“Next time?” asks Roswell.

“Babe, you want to supervise me so that I don’t actually rob the bank?”

“You stole a mug from the Goldcliff Trust.”

“ _What_?” says Roswell.  

“Long story; we were stopping crime,” says Julia, “Right?”

“It was a long day,” contributes Lucretia, “And the mug wasn’t in a vault. It was on a desk.” 

So, they, Roswell watching them intently, walk into the bank, and enter the vault, which Julia picks open without issue. 

Lucretia struts in, like the money and the jewels on the ground are nothing, and grabs a book off of a pedestal. It’s got  _ Isaak _ written on the top left corner of the cover, and she says, “I think we might have a lead on the visitor and the bubble? Now we just need Redmond on our side--”

The earth shakes.

“Fuck, it’s--it’s 11:30. We got fifteen minutes,” says Lup.

Lucretia reads the book--it’s a diary. Isaak tells his story, talks about his own childhood. 

And with an odd look to her face, she reads the last line of the first paragraph, “Nothing prepared me for that fucking cup.

“Bam,” says Lup, “We know who has it.”

Lucretia begins to skim, says, “He killed Jack, had--he had trouble admitting it to himself, but he killed Jack.”

Roswell’s voice is strained, “He wouldn’t.” 

“Pushed him over the edge of Shaft B--we saw Shaft A when we went to the quarry, we--there’s another side, we have to go into that. And then June took the cup, and she froze in a bubble, and the town froze in a bubble soon after that. And Jack--he.” 

Lucretia’s voice echoes in Julia’s head, saying,  _ He created Roswell with his last word. The--the command word. It was for his daughter. Junebug. _

Lup says it out loud.

Roswell’s head turns, and they stare at her oddly, say, “What do you want?”

“Um.”

“Redmond’s right outside the bank,” says Lucretia, “We’re gonna take him to the Temple. You’re--you’re pretty fucking strong, I’m assuming, so, Roswell, you’re gonna have to drag him.”

“Okay, I--I guess.”

And, after grabbing a very reluctant Redmond, who is fuming at Lucretia, they run to the temple.

“We have twenty minutes, and we’ll--we’ll be there right on time for the meetup. Hell yeah, you guys,” says Lup.

“I’m organized as hell.”

“You have good leadership skills, Cretia,” says Julia, punching her arm.

When reunited, the brothers hug. It’s beautiful, as much as seeing two crotchety old men with clear issues between them reuniting can be beautiful.

They begin to pray, and the temple seems to rebuild itself into something beautiful.

Julia runs in, headfirst, Lucretia and Lup at her side. Roswell does not follow.

Inside the temple it’s completely still--pews, intricate tapestries, but no wind, no sound.

 And Istus is there, in front of them, smiling, knitting. She’s beautiful, in a way Julia can’t phrase--Lucretia could phrase it, and Lucretia is drawing her. 

 “You made it,” says Istus, and she smiles.

“An honor,” says Julia. Lucretia curtsies. Lup seems entirely unimpressed.

Istus continues, “This town is sick. Obviously, the whims of fate aren’t being obeyed as much as they’re being made a mockery of, and the force that’s wielding the Temporal Chalice is forcing everyone in this town to relive the same horrible day, the same horrible hour, over and over again. That’s not right. And you may find this upsetting, but you are dying. Time isn’t rewinding every day at noon, it’s repeating for everyone. But for some reason the Temporal Chalice, or whatever’s wielding it is allowing you to remember the loops.”

“Has this--has this happened to us before?” asks Lucretia, “Death told us we had died before--”   
  
“I can’t tell you that yet, it’s not--the time is not right.”

“Way to be divine,” says Lup, “So, are we--once this whole thing’s over, are we--are we gonna die?”   
  
“Not if you get out after a loop that you survive. And that’s maybe something I can help you out with,” she pauses, “I--the three of you, you’re special. So, so special. I don’t say this often, but you are entirely unique in the universe. The multiverse. The three of you are the only three of you that there are, doing the things that the three of you do here in this world.”

“Are there others like us? Anyone else you’d consider particularly unique?”   
  
“Lucretia, it’s--the time is not right. You will find this out in due time. But whether you realize it or not, you’ve been serving as my agents for longer than you could ever remember. Lucretia, I know you’re--you’re confused, but, I promise. I know how it ends. You three, like you always have, will stop the powers that would reshape reality used by people who shouldn’t be using them!”

“High expectations,” says Julia, and she can feel anxiety creeping up her throat.

“Not expectations, Julia. Truth.”

She offers them a job as her emissaries. Bequeaths them items--an orb that can rewrite a few seconds, for Lucretia, a brown bag for Lup, and for Julia, a lance, shaped like the minute hand of a clock, that can break down the bubbles.

“You’re going to be incredible,” says Istus, and then, they’re back by Roswell and the brothers.

“Roswell,” says Lucretia, “Take us to Shaft B.”

They do. And down there, there’s Isaak, and, behind him, in a bubble, June.

“You three. Liars and thieves and what have you,” says the Sheriff. 

“Pleasure,” says Lucretia, “We need the cup.”

“You’re not--I will draw on you if you get close to the girl.”

Lucretia casts something on Isaak to make him vanish.

“Julia, pop the bubble.”

“Shit, dude.”

“What the  _ fuck, _ ” says Roswell.

Julia pops the bubble.

And June reaches out to the three of them, says, “Let me talk to you.”

And suddenly, Julia is alone with June, surrounded by white. And she is absolutely terrified.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys, i'm so fucking nervous about the chalice chapter, like, in terms of storyline and pacing and everything. it's 3k+ words long, and i think i'll add more in the morning so it's more cohesive, but, uh, shit.
> 
> love you guys lots <3


	26. DO YOU REMEMBER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucretia makes a deal with the devil. Lup stops a fight. Julia shows mercy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh. here's this. i'll talk more in the ending notes. kay cool bye. warnings, i guess, for death and possession and the likes. y'know. standard fare.
> 
> this is the chapter i've worked on the longest, and i'm also terrified that it's bad. so. uh. have fun.

Lucretia stares across this empty space at the old woman that June has become.

June goes back through the past few years of adventure and starving artistry, laughing on occasion. Where her memories fade—which they don’t do often—they are blurry.

And then, static.

A lot of static.

So much fucking static.

“Well,” says June, “I haven’t seen nothin’ like this before.”

And then, they get to her twenties—writing biographies, writing books, art shows—trying to succeed. June gets to Lucretia’s childhood, skimming through her adolescence.

Lucretia was the youngest of three girls, the elder two of which had already been delegated to her parents as the “favorites” before her birth. Odelia, the eldest, six years Lucretia’s senior, was the pride of her mother—the smartest, the prettiest, the most composed. Daphne, older than Lucretia by three years, was absolutely treasured by her father—the classiest, the happiest, the most sociable. Lucretia was quieter, more intense than them; she was less, she believed, lovable. She didn’t need the attention, really, it wasn’t like she enjoyed socialization very much, but it was difficult to feel like she was constantly behind the rest of them.

At dinner parties, she was always babied by guests, who would always tease. They would always, always bother her.

“What have you been doing lately, doll?” asked Lord William Merau, pale and gangly and old—the kind of man that always made her uncomfortable—as he pinched her cheeks at one of these gatherings,

“You’re almost as pretty as Odelia, you going to steal away the boys like she’s doing?”

Her sister was surrounded by a veritable harem of young men, and she was laughing. Lucretia shrugged, retreating into herself.

“I prefer my books,” she said.

“Oh, sure, but when you look like your sisters,” said the lord, “And you will, of course, everything will change.”

He poked her nose and walked away to chat up Daphne. She hated these gatherings.

They looked similar, the three of them—always braided back their dark hair the same way, always coordinated their colors with each other. They were nobles—they had appearances to keep up. The sisters’ in-sync aesthetics helped with that. This was what Lucretia liked about them—that regardless of disagreements or lack of love, they were a clear unit, the three of them. Teachers would say, “Oh, another Olatunji,” with fondness. Dinner guests would say, “Hello, girls,” and not address them alone.

Lucretia was sent to the finest of institutions of magical studies, as her sisters were—a transmutation focus for Odelia, a divination focus for Daphne, and, Lucretia thought, an abjuration focus, maybe illusion as well, for herself.

But she couldn’t focus on the magic study, instead focusing on the art and writing classes on the side—less important, in her parents’ eyes, less likely to keep up the family’s fortune, based entirely on arcana. Those art classes were where she was strongest. She was good at those things. She was “the best,” said her teachers, who would submit her poetry and her prose to literary magazines, who would always, always publish her.

She never told her parents about the books. She would write home to them, talk about classes, talk about how Odelia and her fiancé were letting her live in their apartment, rather than on campus, which was very nice of them. She never put her heart into those letters like she did with her real writing.  
She finished her first manuscript at age fifteen, and it was published when she was sixteen. Her parents sent her a copy of it, asked why she didn’t tell them, why she was failing her magic classes—you have time to write this, but not to bring your grades up?

She published anonymously from then on.

When she was seventeen, she began hearing a voice in her head every night. They were pixellated, for lack of a better term, broken into shards.

She did not answer, for the first week. She’d read books on warlocks, and she knew that they were untrustworthy. Wont to be erratic, to cause harm to innocents.

But it persisted.

“Lucretia,” they said, “I can help you.”

“Lucretia,” they said, “I am here to help, if you can help me.”

“Lucretia,” they said, “You are the brightest of your age. You have the potential for so much. I need you. And you need me. I can make you even brighter.”

And she did answer, after that. She was shallow, sure. She wanted to be bright. Wanted to be in the esteem of everyone. Wanted to be noticed.

She remembers it hurting her, taking in the Great Old One. She remembers Odelia waking up, and she remembers Odelia finding her form sprawled out on the ground, awake, but unmoving, surrounded in tiny, colorful shapes that the light, or lack thereof, didn’t hit. Her hair turned white.

Her body was burning. But she felt complete. She felt, for once in her life, independent. And while she didn’t know whether or not she wanted that independence before, she knew in that moment that it was good; independence was exactly what she needed.

She knew that she was whole.

“What did you do, Lucy?” asked Odelia.

Odelia leans over, and touches Lucretia’s cheek.

Lucretia knows what happens next.

And June stops, there.

“Unable to control yourself,” says June, “You were possessed by your patron, releasing an energy you haven’t channeled since. Your oldest sister—you lost her, Lucretia. Your patron killed her. And your family—well—they ostracized you for a mistake you couldn’t control.”She doesn’t respond. It’s not worth it. She blocks out her childhood, blocks out her young adulthood—she does not need a tragic backstory, and she will not let it define her.

But to see Odelia’s face. But to see herself, killing Odelia.

That was jarring. That was something she had not seen before.

“But if you take me, Lucretia, that doesn’t have to happen. You can control yourself, now—you can save your sister’s life! You don’t have to lose them. You don’t have to lose your family, you don’t have to be alone.”

—

Lup starts off by saying, “So you’re gonna show me my greatest regret?”

“Effectively,” says June.

“Dope, would love to know what it is. I live in the moment., Junie B. Chalice. No regrets. That’s the Lup Story. I’m gonna get that tattooed, actually.”

“We all have regrets, miss. Especially you, even if you don’t wanna say so, Lup. I know you do. I can see it.”

June has a smile that is unbefitting of someone who is supposed to either be a little girl or a grandmother, one that just reeks of numbness, of sterility, of aloofness. She has an air of sweetness to her exterior, but none of it inside. Lup can’t stand it.

A quick glimpse of adulthood, and then static. An alarming amount of it. So damn much of it.

“What?” says June, “That doesn’t—that doesn’t make sense!”

And then, it’s over. And they’re at the beginning of Lup’s life.

Lup’s childhood wasn’t great, alright? Her parents died when she was a baby, and her Aunt taught her how to cook—gods, she made the best turkey, perfectly spiced and cooked, on Lup’s birthday, every year—and helped her begin transitioning before promptly dying, and she was alone. Completely, and entirely alone. She found solace in traveling groups of misfits, found other trans folks, other folks that the world had tossed astray. They’d respect her. They’d help her. They were never constant, but they helped. For years, she was outcast and alone, but she persisted despite that. And listen, she was damn good at persisting.

What was constant was always static in the corner of Lup’s memories, apparently. Always, always, right beside her, in the corner of the caravans she’s hitching rides in, getting cooking jobs, growing older.

There’s something about the static that makes her heart feel warmer, though she can’t quite place it. June seems to be confused by it, which is a plus, too.

She learned magic from books she would steal from caravans, and saw her first dead body in a good old-fashioned wizard’s duel between the caravan’s chief arcanist and its herbologist—over something petty and pointless. The herbologist’s skin was cold and greasy, and Lup wanted to throw up after she touched it. She was young. She was terrified.

Lup hated death, because it just meant somebody would be isolated like she was. She didn’t want that for anybody. She didn’t like seeing people mourn. It made her nauseous. She could never really sit through a funeral.

She learned how to defend herself, and how to hit back harder, how to burn and burn and burn. She was angry. She wanted to help people, though names and faces of them are static in these memories, and she wanted to help herself.

She saves up enough money from harassing those she travels with and from cooking jobs on the side to attend a magical institution, and she excels. Top of her class in evocation, despite a lack of prior formal training. She was brains and heart and body, and she was damn good at what she did.

They go past the static again, and the blurry corners, after a moment, fade, and June stops the scene in a small town, a small room. A fight broke out in the speakeasy she'd been bartending at--she'd been okay at bartending, she was definitely one to showboat. She had maintained this job for three months now—not a record, but close, at no fault of her own. Bars and restaurants normally begged her to stay, but she could never stick in one place. It just wasn’t her nature.

But this night, a fight broke out--some human man yelling at a young tiefling woman, and Lup usually tried to ignore these things, but this time--

This woman needed her help. She was a helper. She jumped over the bar, perhaps more dramatically than she should, and held her umbrella up like a sword. He drew a wand from his pocket, called her a few less-than-delightful words, and hit her with one of the three Magic Missiles he shot her with. The woman is running away. Lup nodded, casted Scorching Ray, and it landed critically. She watched this man turn into ash. Because of her. She didn’t intend to kill. She never intended to kill. She hated the idea of killing.

People fled the speakeasy. There were sirens outside.

June pauses the scene, says, "You're a killer in this timeline, Lup."

Lup’s throat seems to close up, as she barely whispers, ”It was a--"

”You started adventuring after that, didn't ya?"

"I wasn't gonna get hired in another bar--"

"You were consumed by regret for what you’d done, and you swore off hurting others. Didn’t work out so well, though, huh?”

“He was trying to hurt her—“

“But you killed him. You killed him, Lup, you let him die. Over, what, a barfight?”

The scene resumes. June’s face doesn’t change.

The woman ran up to Lup, screamed at her, “How dare you hurt him, you bitch,” and this woman hit her with a beer bottle. This left a gash above her eye, which would fade into a scar. Which she would claim was a birthmark. Which no one, for whatever reason, would believe.

And that’s her memory of that night—that fucking scar.

She hated that scar more than she hated a lot of things.

Lup ran. She ran, and ran, and ran, and ran.

And she never stopped.

June pauses the scene again.

“You always wanted to be good, Lup,” says June, softly, sadly, “But you ruined that in that speakeasy. You killed somebody, and you stayed a killer after that, didn’t you, even if you didn’t want to? But if you take me, you never have to lay a finger on him. You can be the good person you’re meant to be! You can be a hero, Lup, and I know you want that. Take me.”

Lup’s hands shake.

June smiles.

—

Julia knows what she’s going to see, so she tunes out June’s monologue.

There’s a patch of static.

A long-ass patch of static.

“What happened to you three?” asks June, pursing her lips.

And they’re at the beginning.

Julia did not know her mother very well.

Her mother was her opposite, looking at her—tall and lithe, pale and clear-skinned. But she had the same gap between her teeth, the same eyes that glowed in both the figurative and literal sense, the same posture, the same feathers on her shoulders.

She had never seen her mother in this much detail, she thinks, never seen her mother from this angle.

Her mother left her father—short and dark and messy and kind, like Julia—when Julia was two years old.

Her father dealt with it. Her father raised her well, she thinks. He was a good man, a smart man, a creative man. The best, the smartest, the most gifted she’d ever met. He would always laugh, call her Julie. He taught her everything he knew. How weld, how to carve, how to stay out of trouble. She had trouble with that last part. She was always in the center of trouble, frankly, no matter how sneaky she got. And she got pretty fucking sneaky—running through town lugging around orders after the city’s curfew made her that way.

And then, Kalen took over. She was sixteen, and she was, like many sixteen-year-olds, furious with the world, She didn’t need some fascist ass to make the world an even worse place. The town’s government had never been great, but he took it to a whole new level of cruel bullshit. She saw innocent people getting hurt, and she got angry about it, like any reasonable person should.

Her father let her fight with him. He was good that way. She never quite understood clericism, but he taught her some cantrips and how to wield a sword. She forged her own weapon.

And, somehow, one way or another, she became a symbol. There was a lot of talk from traveling bards who bore witness from protests about a young guardian angel who would always be at the forefront of protests, always be giving speeches, always be fighting. Word spread, and she found herself thrust into a position of leadership that she had never asked for.

Kalen met with her, once, alone. It was in the Governor’s Mansion, which was pristine and shiny in a way the shop never was—in a way she never wanted it to be.

He talked down to her, he kept calling her a “pretty little thing,” and tried to make her defend him. He used enchantment magic on her, and she almost couldn’t resist.

She decided to fight fire with fire, charm the hell out of his guards. Her own charisma carried her—people liked her, genuinely. This made her like her role as a leader, eventually—the praise, the glory, and the helping others. The third one was most important, but, goddamn, she did like to be liked.

She was eighteen. Hardly an adult. She didn’t consider herself an adult.

But others did.

And so she fought, and she fought, and she fought, until she met the Governor in his office a second time, two years older. Two years harder. The townsfolk, the other artisans who made up their resistance, were all held back—killed or in hiding. She held her sword to his chest, ready to hurt him, ready to kill him and gain back her city’s former prosperity. He had destroyed the temple to the Raven Queen, years ago, had cut fundings for the architects’ guild, had ruined the schools’ curriculums, had ramped up police presence to the point where many were scared to leave their homes. This could not stand.

But he was crying and shaking on the ground.

She never considered herself weak, alright? She was emotional, sure, but never weak until this point.

But in her moment of weakness, she spared him. Pity, she supposed.

Months passed. The city celebrated her as a hero, as a peacemaker, started buying out the shop. Orders at the shop skyrocketed, even from out of the city.

And then, came that day.

She remembers the last customer the shop ever had. He was an outsider—young, handsome, in a crimson jacket, wearing sunglasses. He had come to pick up a chair, but also to talk to her about a job opportunity for a fighter as good as her. She doesn’t remember the details of the conversation, or the man’s face, but she remembers everything else in vivid detail. He handed her a card, which she kept in her pocket, but she turned him down.

“You sure?” he asked, “We’re always lookin’ for new innovators, that’s—that’s what the Cap says, but—we’re doin’ a huge thing soon, and we want. You.”

“I like—I like working here. I love my city. So, thanks, but—no thanks.

“Alright, alright, I can say I tried,” he laughs, "See ya, Jules." She smiled as he left.

Her father hummed an old song, and there were exactly fourteen minutes of quiet, of normality.

And then, her ears started ringing, as she heard the loudest noise she’d ever heard in her life.

The shop was burning. Everything was burning, and shaking. She saw her father get crushed as a pillar falls, saw him die, quiet, burning. She sees her work, her father’s work consumed by flame and by smoke.

She was hit by something, and she blacked out.

And she woke up, hours later, in the arms of a half-elf woman who seemed shocked that Julia was alive. Her skin was burning, and she was bleeding, and her left leg was numb, but she was alive.

“You were—we thought you were dying.”

She didn’t say anything.

The town is burning. She is on a hill above it. She watches it burn.

June pauses.

“You fought for your city and you still lost it. But you can go back, and you can kill Kalen, Julia. You can earn your happy ending, earn your city back. Take me.”

Julia tastes saltwater running down her cheek.

—

“I wouldn’t be where I am today without what happened,” says Lucretia, “I—I hate what I did, I wish I could change it every goddamned day, but I have a new family now. I—I can’t change the past, it’s—it’s wrong. And I couldn’t—there’s no way, in that moment, June, that I could have controlled myself.”

“I—I would’ve ended up the same anyway. Woulda made the same mistake somewhere else. Like you said, I never stopped.”

“I,” Julia pauses, “How fucking dare you. As if I—as if I don’t think about that every day. I—That man stole my childhood, and he stole my family, stole my city, but I’ll be damned if the thought of him steals my fucking present.”

And the Chalice falls to the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's my thinking.
> 
> 1\. lucretia's character in canon is haunted by the fact that she lost her family, and that she caused that loss with her own actions--her found family, obvs, but her family nonetheless. and i feel like that very much influences her character, and because that's all i have to go off of for this fic and her characterization, something similar needed to have happened to her. and i knew that her family wasn't exactly the greatest, that she didn't miss them, but i didn't know how to go about that, so, therefore, i worked in my reasoning for making her a warlock rather than a wizard/sorceror, mixed it up, and bam.
> 
> 2\. lup's fear of death/hurting people who don't need to be hurt isn't something that's as actively acknowledged in this fic as other traumas, because, frankly, it doesn't come up as much. but i feel like it informs a lot of how i write her approach to a lot of the issues she's been facing, so i feel like, especially because she doesn't remember becoming a lich/anything about her brother, she would be very heavily influenced by something like that. hers is the segment i'm least sure about, but it's out there now, so. uh.
> 
> 3\. julia's main backstory event had already been acknowledged a lot in this fic, so i focused more on the lead-up here--her relationship with her parents, the revolution and her participation in it, and the encounter that eventually led to her joining the ipre. a lot of julia's characterization in this fic is based upon her past, so i felt that it needed explanation--she's immature because she didn't really have a standard adolescence, she's reckless and quick to react because she's afraid that if she doesn't stop something, it will hurt her, etc. so. yeah.
> 
> and some programming notes:
> 
> one more chapter of this arc, then a lunar interlude, and two or three (i forget how many i accounted for and the checklist is on my phone, not my computer. oops) chapters of suffering game, i think i'm doing three chapters of stolen century--like the original arc, these will be in vignettes rather than have a singular pov. then there'll be a bit of a break, while i wait for the endgame to pick up. that hiatus'll mostly just be for me to make minor edits (spelling, continuity, grammar, you know the deal). after i finish those edits, we'll start the finale, which, who knows how that'll effect the chapter-count plan, and then, we're done. i might write some of the bonus episodes (wrestlemania, team-bonding, the austin live show if that gets released anytime soon) during the editing break, if there's enough demand, though i'm not sure whether or not i would post those in this fic or as separate pieces. who knows!
> 
> so. yeah.
> 
> love you.


	27. IT'S SO BEAUTIFUL. LET'S LIVE HERE! WE'LL RENT TO START.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The girls are about done with this time travel bullshit. Good thing they're officially on the last loop! Actually, that might be dangerous. Fuck.
> 
> Lup shields up. Julia gets some jewelry. Lucretia gets some of the information she wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay. okay. um.
> 
> so, here we're gonna get some backstory hints, and some straights, and some gays too.
> 
> i love june very much.
> 
> enjoy.

They’re back in the mine. June is young again, Julia is crying, and Lucretia is in a standstill.

So Lup has to handle this by herself, for the next few minutes. Fuck. She can compartmentalize pretty fucking well. Roswell and Isaak run up to them, Isaak looking like he’s been thoroughly beaten up by Roswell, which, good. Roswell also has the Sheriff’s badge stuck haphazardly to their armor, which, incredible.

Something about the room feels different.

“They can,” Isaak says, and he pauses, “Everyone can remember everything, now.”

Roswell’s bird-wings cover their bird-eyes, like they have a headache.

“Fuck,” says Lucretia, snapping out of whatever trance she’s in. Julia, startled by the sound of Lucretia’s voice, carefully picks up the chalice and places it in her bag, “Roswell, we are—we are very sorry for breaking out of prison and also actively lying to you.”

“This is the last loop.”

“I forgive you—so, uh, if I can ask you three, cuz you clearly have the experience,” says Roswell, ignoring Isaak, “What’s the plan?”

“We’ve got about ten minutes,” says Lup, “June? When did the—when did the worm attacks start?”

“After the bubble went up,” June says, and she looks sad, “She got separated from her babies.”

“So, we—we can’t let her get up to the town, and we gotta pop the bubble. Julia can pop it.”  
  
A quiet, “You fuckin’ _know_ I can pop it, dude,” comes from the back of the area.

Isaak says, gesturing to a lever across the room, “In all the thousands of loops I’ve done I haven’t pulled this lever. This mine works with a ventilation system where the hatch has to be closed over either Shaft A or Shaft B, and I’ve been afraid to open up this shaft because if the worm comes up here and killed June that would be the whole ballgame for all of us. So, if we flip this switch we can close Shaft A and open up Shaft B, and that’ll at least keep the worm from destroying the town the same way it has this some twenty five hundred times already.”

“Worst case scenario, we all die, says Lucretia, and Julia nods.

“That’s true.”

“Fuck it,” says Lup, “You ready to live on the edge?”  


“Hell yeah.”

Lup leans over the lever casually, “Isaako, Roswell, you get the _fuck_ out of here, take care of the kid.”

“I’m coming with you three,” says Roswell, “I—I need to keep this town safe. That’s my duty. Isaak, do the right thing for once in your—in your miserable _fucking_ existence.”

“I like the new Roswell,” says Julia, walking up and patting them on the shoulder, “Ros-hell. June—be as safe as you can be. We haven’t died yet!”

“Actually,” says Lucretia.

“Not _permanently,_ ” Julia whispers, “And I’m trying to be comforting.”

“Please don’t kill the worm,” says June, “She’s just a momma—and I don’t want y’all goin’ back to your homes with that weight on your minds.”

Despite no longer being thralled, June is absolutely terrifying. Lup wishes she had the emotional capacity to adopt a kid, just so she could raise one this creepy, _fuck_.

“We promise,” says Lup.

June says, elbowing Isaak, who looks nervous, “Let’s go, dummy.”

“Sick burn!” yells Julia, as the two of them exit.

Lup enters the back cart, Lucretia in front of her, Roswell in front of her, and Julia in front of them. 

And they begin to spiral down. Which Lucretia, evidently, can’t handle—she does get vertigo, Lup remembers. Lup is loving it, whereas Julia seems not-quite-thrilled but not-quite-sick either. 

And the worm emerges. Lup throws a spell at it—Flaming Sphere, because she _knows_ fire doesn’t do shit to purple worms. It doesn’t do shit, as expected, but it does get the damn thing’s attention. 

And it pivots towards them. Which, for the town, is fucking excellent, but, for Lup, is terrifying. She casts Fire Shield on herself, as well as her companions, to block the fire that the worm’s bound to shoot at them.

And Julia says, “Is this—is this safe?”

“It straight up _stops_ fire, my man."

And they pivot into a tunnel, which the worm, at least for a moment, gets stuck in. Then, she starts drillings.

Excellent. 

As it approaches, Lucretia says, “Uh, hold the fuck on,” and casts Expeditious Retreat, speeding the carts up immensely.

They exit the tunnel, and end up over a large, black chasm, when the track diverges into two paths.

A lever pops up in Lup’s cart.

“Guys! Left or right?”  
  
Roswell says, “Uh, left!”  


Julia and Lucretia both yell, “The prophecy said _right_!” in almost the same tone. 

Which means they’re probably right.

“Sorry, Ros.”

And they go right.

Four more levers pop up—Lup and Julia shift them down, whereas Lucretia and Roswell shift theirs up. 

Lup hears, “What? No?” from Roswell above her. The worm has focused her attack on the upper half.

Mud hits the brim of Lucretia’s hat, and it seems as if Roswell, Lucretia on their back, is stretching their entire mud body to their carts.

The worm continues towards them, as Roswell barely re-enters the cart, losing quite a bit of their armor. 

And they say, “I have an idea, and I need you to trust me.”

“Shoot, bud,” says Julia.

“Tell me I made Refuge safe. Just—just—do it!”

“Roswell,” says Lucretia, “You made Refuge safe.”

“Thanks,” they say, and something like a smile appears on their blank, earthen face.

They begin to expand. The bird flies up.

The bubble is right ahead of them, and Julia throws, with all her capacity, the lance Istus gave her.

And then, the three of them are next to Avi and Hekuba, immediately followed by the purple worm.

“You three scared the—the stuff?—out of me,” says Avi.

Hekuba nods at him.

The worm emerges.

So do its babies, which Lup recognizes as the ones she spared before this time loop bullshit started. And, seeing her babies, she disappears again into the ground.

“Are you three okay?” asks Hekuba, rushing up to them and giving them healing potions, casting curative spells on them at a rate Lup thought previously impossible.

“Been better,” says Lup, “How long’ve we been gone?”

“Bout fifty minutes,” says Avi, looking terrified.

And time freezes, again.

“Fuck this _cup,_ ” says Julia.

The Red Robe that’s been following them appears.

“You didn’t—you didn’t use my vial,” they say, their accent seeming less genuine than usual.

“We—you’re the _villain,_ ” says Lup, “Just ‘cuz we’re nice doesn’t mean we lack basic logic.”

He flickers, for a moment, upset, “You didn’t use the chalice?”

“No, dude.”

“I’m proud of you. I don’t—we were worried you’d go back, but—you wouldn’t be able to remember important things. The sky, for example—“

“What?”

“Never—you need to drink the vial I gave you, all of you—it’s important. It’s really—Do you trust me?”

“No,” says Lucretia, “I—I have no reason to trust you. I feel as if I have no reason to trust most people, but particularly, I do not trust you.”  


And he flickers again, for just a second.

And he says, his accent gone and replaced with something different in his voice, something natural, “I’m sorry, Taak, I—“

“Taako?” asks Lup.

“Y—where is he?”

“Don’t get him involved, in whatever the fuck evil bullshit you’re doing, he’s just goin’ about his business, doing a soft reboot.”

“Look, I—thank you, Lup. I need you—next time I see you? I need you to trust me. The Hunger is—it’s gonna be here soon. And this world, it’s too important for us to lose again.”

And he disappears.

Avi and Hekuba’s chatter returns, absentminded, nervous.

And the bubble begins to fade. It turns transparent, and time, in Refuge, speeds up. Lup can’t help but stare.

Seven years go by in ten minutes. They see weddings—Julia laments as Ren marries a woman from the purple-kerchiefed group, but Ren waves at her afterward—an acknowledgement that the three of them, alongside their coworkers, can be seen. 

And, after seven years have passed, the bubble pops.

There’s a sign for them, a festival laid out. They’ve known the day was coming.

Ren says, smiling, “We took bets on who your friends were. Can I get an adopted family member, at least?”

“Nah, Ren,” says Julia, “Just coworkers and friends.”

"Ah, damn. I had some diamonds on that."

Paloma comes up to them, holding a big basket of baked goods.

“You—you almost fucked up very badly,” says Paloma, “But you did not. I am proud.”

And Julia grabs a muffin, “I made the right choice,” she says, “You—you know what I mean. Right?”  
  
“You made the smartest decision,” says Paloma, noncommittal. The Chalice had fucked Lup up, reignited some old shit. Julia already had enough. Lup knows she made the right choice, she hopes Lucretia did.

And Paloma stares at the three of them. Her voice changes.

She says, “In your hour of greatest need, you will find the power that you seek from those who helped you first.”

“Kay, cool, so—another prophecy. Got that one down, Cre?”

Lucretia deadpans, “Wrote everything she said down from the second she walks up to us.”

“I love you.”

“Thank you.”

Cassidy, who’s become the town elder, smiles and waves at them.

And then, June walks up to them, and she pulls them away from Hekuba and Avi, who are more than happy enough to socialize with the people so curious about them.

“Miss Julia,” says June, fifteen or so, looking very nervous, “Uh—this is from the visitor. He—that’s why I—nevermind. You’ll—you’ll get ut eventually.”

She hands Julia a pendant, with a locket and a ring hanging from it.

“Y’all wanted to know more about him, so—uh, here’s this, too.”

She hands Lucretia a tube. Lucretia opens it, and inside, there’s a sketch of the statue in the center of town.

And then, there’s one where the hood of the jacket on the Red Robe is down, and the face of the Red Robe is clear.

And Lup, though she can’t place it, knows his face from somewhere.

“With Gundren.” says Julia, “He knew about Raven’s Roost. The fighter.”

“He knew—but _nobody_ ’s ever heard of Raven’s Roost, save us and the Captain—Angus is looking into it, he wouldn’t shut up about it when we went to the orthodontist.”

“Well, that’s a fun mystery,” says Julia, playing with the pendant, “Uh, June’s—gone.”

“She’s real wispy.”

“Yeah.”

Julia opens the locket, and she gasps, shows it to Lucretia, who nods.

“Are you sure?” asks Lucretia, “Because that’s definitely—I like to think of my style as distinct, and that’s—“

“Look at the scars, and the eyes, and—that’s my hair from when I was fucking _twenty-one._ ”

“I never made this, but it’s—there’s my signature.”

Lucretia shows it to Lup. It’s a tiny, but minutely detailed portrait of a younger-looking Julia—twenty-one, Lup supposes—laughing. And it’s, in its own way, terrifying.

“We’re—we can’t show this to the Captain, right? He’d go after us for espionage, interacting with the enemy.”

And they stare at each other, for a few moments, agreeing

A bird flutters down from the sky, and lands on Lup’s shoulder. She yells, “Fuck!” a little bit too loudly.

“Surprise!” says Roswell. 

“You’re alive,” Lup breathes.

“Yep! And I’m not bound to serve, anymore, but I’m still alive! So, that’s cool! And now, I think I’m gonna—I’m gonna go and explore.”

“Wanna come to the moon, Ros?”

“Uh, someday, I don’t know if birds can—birds can’t really fly that far.”  


“It’s not really the moon, it’s, uh, where we work. On a fake moon. You’ll find it.”

“Someday. I don’t wanna commit to anything right now, y’know?”  
  
“Yeah,” says Lup, “Yeah. Get some exploring done. Ros, I’m—I’m glad you’re alive.”

“I’m glad you’re alive too. Thanks for stickin’ around.”

They fly off.

And, eventually, after a night of feating and hard goodbyes, the five of them take off, head back to the moon. 

They don’t talk about what the chalice showed them, when prompted. Claim it’s personal.

They’re going to tell each other, though, Lup thinks. She’ll talk if they talk, at least.

And they split up—Julia’s called Killian, asked if she can punch something to get her feelings out. Lucretia has agreed to go stargazing and chat philosophy with Merle, which Lup has, at this point, figured out means she and Merle are going to get high and talk about God.

Which, fair.

So Lup enters her room alone, and, on the couch, she sees a figure wearing ninety-percent denim.

“We need to talk,” says Barry Bluejeans, “I thought we agreed you’d stop messing around with death?”

“Shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're getting to the end, everybody! oh god! oh geez! ten chaps more!
> 
> if you have any questions or concerns, comment, and maybe give me a kudos if you like this and you haven't done it already. the ratio there's a little bit stressful. but it's my own fault, i'm just chatty. which is why i love comments so much. love y'all! <3
> 
> check [thist](http://twentyquestionz.libsyn.com/), if you want my unique brand of comedy, dropping into your ears this weekend, if my cohost can send me her track. sorry to self promo, but, uh, hey, gotta do it sometime.


	28. TERRIBLE, NO GOOD, VERY BAD AFTERMATH

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mysteries deepen for the girls, but hey, they might as well try and fail to distract themselves from them!
> 
> Lup makes a deal and gets a sword. Julia has a strange encounter on the street. Lucretia goes full Winona Ryder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, holy shit, we're really coming into the end, guys. buckle up. this isn't the calm before the storm, except for maybe the last scene. the storm's already started, folks, and it's a bad one.

“You’re taking me to a Fantasy Costco to talk privately?” Barry asks, looking a bit uncomfortable.

“There’s only one guy there, and he’s got more shit to worry about than my repeated death.”

In reality, she likes the sterility of the Fantasy Costco, the quiet, and she needs time to think about what she saw in Refuge. Because she almost took the Chalice. She could see Lucretia and Julia shift to take it too. It’s disturbing.

And the whole thing with the visitor and the locket, she needs time to think about that, too. She wants to have faith in her girlfriend, in her friend, that they haven’t been lying to her, that they aren’t just talented actresses trying to use her to gain access to the relics or something, but—no. She shouldn’t spiral like that. They wouldn’t lie to her.

“Look, Lup,” says Barry, as they walk through the tents aisle, “I—I don’t understand what y’all’s deal is, vis-a-vis death. It—I don’t wanna bother the Raven Queen about it, obviously, but—I just. You and your friends, uh, Julia, Lucretia, Merle, you know that crowd—you’re part of a pretty small group of people who just keep. Bending the laws. And I just wanna know how? Like, scientifically—“

“Who else is in that group?”

“Confidentiality, Lup.”

“Okay, sure, but I think we could maybe start a support group.”

“I’m not helping you start a support group for people who break death laws. Like, you’re great, like, super great, you’re funny and interesting and—but—“

“Wait, Barry Bluejeans, are you flirting?”

“I mean—n—“

“Look, I’m flattered, but I’m taken right now, so—“  
“I get it. But, I just wanna know why this keeps happening. With the death. Lady Istus has made sure the Queen pardons the citizens of Refuge, which, bless their souls, but—“

“Yeah, you better pardon them, it’s not their fault.”

“I—I agree. But. Lup, you’ve died a significant number of times. Why are you putting yourself in that position? Why not pick a safer career?”

“Says the dead man who decided, even in death, that he had to do battle with folks.”

“I wanted to be a scientist,” he says, a bit sad.

“Aw, that’s cute.”

“Death sorta found me, though. Partied a little too hard one night, woke up in the Raven Queen’s court.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah. But why do you do this?”

“Cuz it helps others, and I do it well. And I have—I have Lucretia. And Julia. And they’re—I’ve never really had anyone constant, before, y’know?”

“You have a,” and Barry’s voice is replaced by static, “though, right?”

“What?”

“You didn’t know?”

“No, I—there must be something restricting that info from me, Barold, I don’t know.”

“Fuck,” he says.

“Yeah. Can I—does killing somebody accidentally make you a bad person?”

“What?”

“I—I got something weighing on my conscience, Bar, I—I need some comforting from somebody who doesn’t know me super well.”

“Depends on your definitions of good and bad, Lup. I’m—I kill people intentionally all the time. I consider myself a rather neutral force.”

He pats her shoulder—his hand is clammy and greasy and cold and dead, and she shudders.

“I’m—not as an insult to you, but can you not—this isn’t a you thing, it’s a me thing, can you not touch me? Bad memories.”

“Oh, uh, yeah, absolutely.”

She snaps back to herself.

“Barry,” she says, “Have you ever stolen a sword, before?”

Twenty minutes later, she walks out of the Costco, Barry trailing behind her, with a giant, flaming sword at her side and a deal to spare her life if she just stops dying, which, fair.

“You wanna meet up again? In a—in a friendly way, I mean,” says Barry, “You’re a—I don’t get much free time, I’m assuming you don’t either, so. But if you ever wanna have a drink or get your feelings out, call me, okay?”  
“And vice versa,” she says.

Julia and Lucretia are gonna freak over this sword, and over her recap of this interaction. They’re welcome distractions from what’s been going on, anyways.

She swings it around proudly, and laughs to herself.

\--

Julia does not want to think about the locket or the ring or the statue, and especially not that fucking cup, so she agrees to help Killian and Carey choose a wedding venue down in Neverwinter. Hurley, Killian’s maid of honor, and Angus, who is just very good at getting impressions off of things, are also along for the ride, so, in Julia’s opinion, it’s a pretty good group to not think about anything else with.

But as they’re breaking for lunch, Angus starts talking to her about the hometown situation, with his investigation, and she just starts weeping, then and there.

So she dismisses herself, goes outside, and runs into an alley. She does one of the deep breathing things Lucretia taught her, and gives up on it after a minute or so, because she can’t stop thinking about watching her town burn.

She lets herself hyperventilate, lets herself choke on her own breath, lets herself cry, and cry, and cry, and, after a few minutes, she stops.

Hurley joins her, a moment later, says, “Did you use the—the Relic?”

“i came close,” she says.

“It’s—look, I. You can talk to me.”

“How did it try and convince you to use it?”

“Said it could help me make the world a better place,” she says, “And when I had it on, I thought I was doing that.”

She hugs Hurley. Hurley hugs back, and sits down against the wall with her.

“Is that a new necklace?” asks Hurley, “I’m—I’m trying to ease over into lighter territory.”

“Got it in the town, it’s—it’s weird. How’s Sloane?”

“She’s good. I think she misses Goldcliff, she—I grew up over in Fae’s Landing, but she’s from there. I miss it too, but.”

“Yeah. You gonna visit?”

“There’s a cherry tree right outside of town, uh, I think I’m gonna propose under it in a few months. We’re visiting her sister, then, cuz her baby’s due about then.”

“Cute.”

“Very. Do you—I have a bottle of water on me. Sloane gets some shitty, shitty attacks sometimes, so I gotta keep ‘em on stock.”

“Would be nice.”

And Hurley tosses a tiny bottle of water into Julia’s hand. She downs it, and then she spots a flash of red in the street. Sees a man in a coat walking down the sidewalk, talking nervously into a stone of farspeech.

And she knows that this man is dead, and she knows that this man had a locket with a painting of her inside of it.

So, she chases after him.

Hurley jumps up after her, yells, “What the hell are you doing?”

“Burnsides!” Julia yells. He does not turn around, only shifts his head around to look at her and begins walking faster.

At this point, Carey, Killian, and Angus are running after her too.

But she’s already caught up, and she’s in front of him.

“How the fuck,” she says, boxing him out, “Are you alive.”

“Hi, Julia,” he says, “Nice to see you again.”

“How are you alive? And I have other questions too, dude, like, for example,” she rips the pendant off of her neck and shoves it in his face, “This.”

“Look, I—he gave you a vial, right? If you drink it, it’ll make sense—Look, I’m alive because Kravitz bought a machine that can regenerate bodies, okay? That’s it, plain and simple. I died, my clone was down to accept my soul, and, bam, necromancy. Jules, I—“

He has a look of sincerity in her eyes that she can’t help but trust.

“I’m sorry about the Chalice. That’s my bad. I—it showed you sparing him, right?”

“It did.”

“You shouldn’t have seen that, I’m—I have to go. I’ll see you later.”

The thought sounds unfinished. She lets him walk away.

Hurley catches up to her, pulls her back onto the sidewalk.

“What the hell was that?”

“I,” she says, and then, “Old friend.”

Carey jumps into the mix, says, “Okay, so we still have the creepy-ass tunnel venue to check out. So, uh—if you’re good, let’s—let’s travel that-a-way.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she says, “I’m good. I just—I need to make a call, real fast.”

Lucretia’s gonna flip.

\--

Lucretia sneaks into the voidfish’s chambers in the middle of the night, when the guard is already asleep. She’s assuming that the static in the memories June showed her is connected to the whole situation with the deaths and with the portrait. And she only knows of one thing that can cause static in people’s minds.

So, she decides it’s time to take a dip.

When the voidfish sees her, it sings, a little bit—the same seven note pattern it always sings when she’s around. She should probably transcribe it. But her bag is on the ground, and she’s already climbed a ladder.

The voidfish reaches a tendril out of the hatch on top of its tank, grabs her, and pulls her in. She screams, but finds that, inside the water, she is comfortable.

And the voidfish touches her again, and it shows her something. A memory.

She is in a cave, surrounded by other voidfish. It’s beautiful, lights twinkling around her. A bunch of tiny wooden ducks lay at her side.

And then, two people in red robes walk in, hurriedly, and they grab her, panicking. And they run—take her back to a boat. A silver boat. The sky is black, with occasional bursts of bright color. She is terrified, though she doesn’t know why.

And then, she’s back in the tank.

She decides, she might as well be direct.

She thinks, _What was that?_

The voidfish almost shrugs.

_Can you hear me? Blink once for yes, twice for no._

It blinks once.

_Was that the past?_

It blinks once.

And then, she has an idea. She swims up, thinks, one moment. The voidfish coos.

She rips twenty-eight pages out of one of the journals in her bag, writes each letter of the alphabet, as well as a yes and a no, and sloppily tapes them to the voidfish’s tank. She climbs back in, and she jumps.

_Can you spell?_

It taps the yes.

_Who were the two people that took you?_

It taps out for a solid minute, MA—static, YO—static. Her brain can’t comprehend what it is saying, so this is a dead end.

_Why can’t I process what you’re saying?_

It sings its song, taps out BABY.

And the notes of the song stand out to her. EGG Rest BABE.

So there’s another voidfish, somewhere, and it has her memories. That’s important.

She doesn’t say anything out loud.

_Are you being held prisoner?_

It taps no.

_Can you go home?_

It taps no.

_Why not?_

It taps out HUNGER.

_What do you mean, do you—do you need food? I have some sappy poetry from when I was—infatuated but not acting upon said infatuation—that I can feed you, if you need that—_

It taps no. Then it taps DANGER.

_Should I trust the man in the Red Robe?_

It doesn’t tap anything.

_Should I trust the Captain?_

It doesn’t tap anything.

_Am I missing something important?_

It taps yes.

_Do you have a name? She thinks this is important—politeness._

It taps yes.

She rolls her eyes.

_What is it?_

It taps FIS, and then, an alarm bell rings from somewhere. She panics, and swims up, rips down the papers, and she runs.

Julia and Lup are in the dorm, stress-baking—as she’s realized, at this point in their relationship, is something that they’re both wont to do.

“Someone’s out late,” says Lup, and gives her a kiss on the cheek.

“Uh, there’s a second voidfish.”

“What?”

“Yeah, there’s two of them. June, when she was showing me my memories, there was a big chunk of static, and—“

“Me too, and, uh, Barry, when we were talking earlier this week, staticked out on me. Talking about my childhood.”

“When I ran into Burnsides the other day, all necromanced back into life, he was acting like he was already inoculated.”

“So,” says Lup, “We have to find this thing.”

“Obvi,” says Julia, and she licks a spoon covered in cake batter.

“If you get fantasy salmonella, I’m not helpin’. Lucretia, you can’t help her either.”

“Absolutely not.”

“That’s fair. So you swam with the voidfish?” asks Julia, patting Steven’s bowl, with is hitched to one of her belt loops.

“Yes, I—it was a sweet, honestly. Big fan of the voidfish.”

“Isn’t everyone?” asks Lup, “I was gonna do something cute with the spoon, but someone fucked it up.”

“Sorry for ruining your relationship,” says Julia, “There’s another spoon, and like, three bowls. You can make it work.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alt. chapter title: MAGNUS HAS A REALLY BAD DAY  
> alt. alt. chapter title: LUCRETIA HAS NEVER DONE ANYTHING WRONG, EVER, AND I KNOW THIS, AND I LOVE HER  
> alt. alt. alt. chapter title: GIRLS WITH SWORDS ARE THE BEST KIND OF GIRLS
> 
> uh. suffering game's up next. those three chapters are probably gonna be a little lengthy, and also very hard to write, because i am changing a LOT to set up stolen century/endgame. oh boy.


	29. NASTY CRIME BOY HAS COME TO TOWN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The girls are sent off to a torture zone, but, hey, at least they meet up with an old friend to help them out along the way!
> 
> Lucretia does some damage. Julia forgets. Lup is hit with some bad luck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i rolled randomly for all of the sacrifices in this arc, save one that'll come up. next chapter? two chapters from now? i forget. so while i paralleled canon at some points, that's not 100% guaranteed to happen. so. uh. yeah. format's also changed because of reasons you'll learn about in this chapter. which, in some ways, makes this arc Very Similar to canon, one could argue that it's 66% closer to canon, but also, it's. very different.
> 
> so. enjoy.

The Captain is nervous about this one, Lup thinks. She’ll usually zone out during these briefings, but he’s been training them to a ridiculous degree for the past two months. She needs to know what’s up with this next relic.

“I,” he says, “I went to the place I’m going to send you, looking for the same relic. Right after I decided to collect them. And I lost years off my life, I lost memories, I lost strength. I--I don’t want to lose you, but I nearly died there. It’s not that I don’t have faith, it’s just--”

“We got this, Cap,” says Julia, “I don’t think anything could be worse than last time.”

“Just--take care of each other. Don’t let each other take big hits.”

And he waves them off.

Lup’s heard of the Felicity Wilds—who hasn’t? Where adventurers go to die. So she’s unsurprised when, almost immediately after landing, they’re attacked by a chimera. Fucking amazing. Julia says she’ll handle it, because the two of them can’t afford to lose spell slots. Which is great of her, because Lup is not in the mood to fight one of these things. Lucretia runs in with her quarterstaff and begins hitting the creature as well, and they do significant damage to them.

And then, plants begin to strangle the chimera, as it’s hit by a few arrows and magic missiles. Lup adds in her own magic missiles, just so she can be a part of it.

And, as the chimera falls, three figures emerge from the darkness.

“Fuck,” says one of them, “You three, again.”

“Hey, Taako,” says Julia, “You looking for Wonderland too?”

“Yes, my man, I am. June, was it?”

“Julia.”

“Okay, whatever. This is my team, ‘cuz you _know_ ch’boy’s not goin’ into these woods without help.”

His team is a nervous-looking wood elf with purple hair and a human man whose face she can’t focus on, who is definitely hiding his face with some sort of magic.

“Antonia,” says the elf, “Druid.”

The human poses, flexes, says, “i’Morko, fighter.”

“That’s an elvish name,” says Lucretia, “For ‘the bear.’”

“It’s a codename.”

“Look,” says Lucretia, “Taako, I’m--you know I’m a fan, and Antonia seems great, but are you going to trust a man with a chameleon charm and a codename?”

“He’s working for free.”

“I am!” says i’Morko, “Gotta establish a good relationship in this biz.”

“If you’re a fighter, who cast that spell on you?” asks Lup.

“My friend Mac.”

“Why?”

“Cuz I,” he pauses, “I have self-esteem issues. And Taako--you know him, he’s all about aesthetics. So I thought, why not make myself forgettable? Also, I’m a. Big fan? And I? Don’t want to embarrass myself. Yeah. That works.”

“Can we move on?” asks Antonia, “If you three would like to join our party, I would be fine with that. I usually work with my half-brother, but he fell sick, so--the larger the party, the better.”

“They’re good at what they do,” says Taako, sighing, “Ugh, fine. But I don’t owe any of you anything, capiche?”

“Capiche,” says Lup.

“Great. So. What’re you fucks looking for? Another magical item that’ll end up fucking up my life?”

“Yeah.”

“Fucking amazing.”

Lup actually likes it when they get more bodies on board—there’s something comforting about six or seven or eight, rather than three. She wouldn’t trade Lucretia and Julia for goddamn anything, but the more the merrier. And, sure, she’ll hate to get attached to them, but particularly for something that the Captain implied was deadly, a few extra bodies is safer.

So the six of them walk toward the center of the wilds, noting the lights and the arcane energy pointing them there. Taako says it’s a lot of necromancy and illusion, which doesn’t seem to bode well for them.

“It’s a necromancy-thing we’re looking for,” says Lup.

“Oh, that’s fucking wonderful, Lup, glad to know you three are fuckin’ going wild with death itself now, real comforting to—“

“Necromancy isn’t, like,” says i’Morko, “It’s not that bad, all the time, like—“

“You are so fucking suspicious,” says Lucretia, “Look, I—If you’re trying to run a con of some kind, if you’re a confidence man, or a spy, or a murderer, just tell us, don’t draw this out like some storybook villain.”

“I’m not?”

“Sure. I’m saving my spell slots until we know what’s in here, but as soon as I can, I am dispelling that damn chameleon charm.”

“Nah, I saw his face,” says Antonia, “He’s—he looks like a pretty normal dude. Never seen a wanted poster.”

“We don’t know you either,” points out Lucretia.

“Cretia? Let’s just—I’m suspicious too, let’s let this rest for now. Okay?”

“Yeah, babe, let’s wait till we enter the death trap to kill our party of, ya feel?”

“Is that—I don’t do humor.” says Antonia, “That’s a joke, right?”

“Yeah,” says Julia, “So you deal with plants, then?”

And the conversation gets boring, at that point.

After two or so hours of walking, they stumble upon a cylindrical building surrounded by lights, with a black-and-white striped pattern moving around it in a wheel.

And there are billboards surrounding the path to the door. LUP, JULIA, & LUCRETIA — THE ANIMUS BELL on one, brightly colored and clearly nonsense to the other three. Some of the text on one of the other billboards is obstructed by something—magic. YOUR FRIENDS is written under it.

“Fucking adorable,” says i’Morko.

“Y’all want me to check for traps?” asks Julia, who doesn’t wait for an answer and runs down the pathway at top speed. After she makes it to the door, she yells, “It’s all good!”

So, at a normal, reasonable speed, save i’Morko, who also runs, the rest of them jointer at the door.

Six names appear above the door. One of them is obstructed, again, and Lup rolls her eyes. He’ll slip up eventually.

And they enter.

It’s dark inside, for a moment, but then suddenly, the room is flooded with bright, multi-colored lights. Two elves decked out in gaudy, golden outfits appear on a platform above them, and one of them snaps. Music starts playing, and the lights begin to flash, and these two elves are just voguing their goddamn brains out.

This is, indisputably, something Lup has dreamed about. It’s incredible.

Taako, clapping, verbalizes this.

One elf says, “You made it! Welcome to Wonderland! I’m Edward, this is Lydia, and we’re going to be your hosts.”

Lydia adds, “We usually don’t have parties this big, but we’re willing to accommodate for you.”

“It won’t come easy, dears,” continues Edward, “But you’ll do _great_ , I just know it.”

And Lydia says, somehow behind Lucretia now, “The rules are simple. You’ll—“ Lucretia jumps and tries to hit her.

i’Morko asks, “Are you guys holograms?”

“Does it matter?” ask Lup and Taako and the same time as Lydia and Edward.

Lydia continues, “You will be evaluated through a series of tests and games in order to determine the extent to which you truly want your prize.”

And Edward adds, The tests will be rough, but they’re important. In Wonderland you can only find the things you truly desire by losing the things that hold you back. You follow the rules of the tests, you push through the pain, and you will leave here happy. If you cheat, less so.”

“Are you looking for a chef, perchance?” asks Taako. Antonia elbows him.

“I can cook and bartend,” says Lup, “Also I’m charming. And I have references?”

“Let’s see if you can make it through Wonderland. If that’s what you truly desire, maybe it will be waiting for you at the end of you trials.”

“Remind me of the Deals Warlock,” says Julia out loud, “You guys get those vibes?”

“In a way,” says Lucretia.

“I can see it.”

And they’re pointed through another door. This room has a giant wheel with six red lights over it, and nothing else.

“This is the Wheel of Sacrifice. You spin it, and you give up whatever it lands on. You are, of course, free to refuse if you land on something you value too much to lose, but there will be a penalty for your reluctance.”

“I’ll go first,” says Lucretia at the same time as i’Morko. Lucretia gets there faster, and she spins.

The wheel lands on eye.

“Oh,” says Lydia, “And you have such pretty eyes! How unfortunate. Well, this is only round one, so we’re just going to take away those… visual aids of yours, and also make your vision a little, tiny bit worse.

Lucretia shrugs, says, “Worse has happened to me.”

And, like that, her glasses disappear.

i’Morko walks up next, and rolls swords.

“Ooh, a battle-stained past—how ‘bout we take a victory from your past, and make it harder?”

“What?”

“You’ll just have come off rougher from an old battle. How about a certain barfight, huh?”

i’Morko sighs, says, “So it’ll change all of the—“

And black smoke pours out of his mouth.

“You have such an interesting past, darling. Can we pick who goes next? I want the druid to take her chance.”

And Antonia strolls up, losing her darkvision after she rolls eye.

“Aaaand Lup. You come up.”

She does so. It lands on skull.

Fuck. She doesn’t know what that means, necessarily, but, fuck.

“You’ll just have some bad luck in the future, sweetheart! That’s all!”

“Fuck.”

Black smoke pours out of her mouth as she says this.

“How about Taako?”

“I—I wanna go last.”

“Too bad. Go up, don’t be shy!”

He also receives bad luck. He curses after, and more black smoke spills out of his mouth.

“Aw, that’s cute, Edward, they match.”

“Adorable. And that just leaves Julia, huh?”

Julia walks up, and she lands on a section with a brain on it. She looks around nervously, and then, she says, “So what the fuck are y’all gonna do to me?”

“Well, Julia, there’s someone out there who’s hurt you.”

“Lotta folks,” she says, and her voice cracks, “I don’t—I don’t like where this is going.”

Black smoke.

“Well, how would you like it if you couldn’t remember him? The Governor who stole your adolescence, your family, your town? You’ll know what he did, of course, but the face, the name, they just won’t compute.”

“Um. Can I phone a friend?”

“What’d he do?” asks Taako, “Just so we can—y’know. I am all about forgetting the past, so I’m gonna vote yes regardless, but inform the people.”

“This should be something you decide on your own,” says Lucretia, “But I agree with Taako, that it might be healthier for you to not think about him.”

“Thirded.”

“Why would you—I,” i’Morko stops himself, says, “It’s your decision. I don’t know what this is about, but if he ruined your life, wouldn’t forgetting him just—wouldn’t it keep you up at night?”

“It already keeps her up at night, dumbass,” says Lup, pointing her umbrella at him.

“Yeah, but imagine not being able to remember the person that killed your family?”

“I never said he killed my family.”

“It was an, uh, inference.”

“Fine, fair, Antonia?”

“Let go.”

“Okay, sorry Morks, but, uh, I’m gonna forget.”

And Julia closes her eyes, says, “Is my turn over?”

“Yeah,” says Lup, and she grabs her friend’s arm, “Yeah, you did good, kid.”

“Okay, my brain’s just a little bit—it’s kinda fuzzy.”

“It would be, after that.”

They’re finally allowed to enter the next room, a white chamber with a screen and a platform.

The screen flashes Antonia’s face.

She says, “Uh, what do I—what do I do?”

It’s a Prisoner’s Dilemma game against a team that entered at the seven o’ clock entrance, as compared to their entrance at one. Trust or Forsake.

“Uh,” says Antonia, looking puzzled, for a moment, until she presses TRUST.

Lup groans as THEIR CHOICE: FORSAKE appears on the screen. And black smoke.

And they walk into the next room. circular, with three large cubes five feet ahead of the door.

“Welcome to the Monster Factory! This is so _exciting_. Each of you will roll these dice in front of you and you will build a bespoke foe to square off against. It could be something new altogether, nobody knows!”

After some rolling, they end up with “regenerating, poisonous slime.” Which is better than most other options appeared to be, but still fucking terrifying.

“And you lost, so, uh, one more creature.”

“Flying, electrified direbear.” There’s the shitty one.

“Okay, uh, Taako and company, y’all take the bear, we got the slime,” says Lup.

“Got it.”

“Uh-uh. One more die, to apply to both monsters.

It falls to the ground. Multiplying.

“Wonderful,” says Lup.

The slime and the bear materialize on different sides of the room, and Lup, Lucretia, and Julia run towards it.

Lucretia strikes it first, hitting it with Blight to a massive degree. And it splits in two, one of which looks significantly weaker than the other, though they both seem to be gaining in size.

The two slimes go next, and they aim for Julia, and they seem to hit her hard. Lup runs over, but Julia blocks her out, says, struggling to get the words out, “I got this, dude, you and Taako both rolled the skull, and look at him.”

She glances across the room, and sees i’Morko trying to lift some giant heap of metal off of Taako. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Lucretia runs over to them, and picks Julia up. Julia, half-assed, throws her lance at one of the slime creatures, somehow knocking it dead.

“Baller,” she says.

And then, the slime hits the three of them all at once. Lucretia manages to jump away, but Julia is knocked down again, and Lup falls with her.

She groans, and black smoke pours out of her mouth. And as that reaches the cieling, a box drops on top of Lup’s legs.

Lucretia run towards the second slime, and though Lup is having trouble moving, she can still focus on how fucking badass her girlfriend looks.

Lucretia destroys the second slime with a few hits, as well as some sharp words from Vicious Mockery—though, she looks odd afterward.

Hm.

“That felt different,” she says, coming to lift the two of them up. The other trio, with only one member as seriously battered as Lup and Julia are, wave at them across the room, done fighting their creature.

“What do you mean?”

“I—I can’t feel the source as much as I usually do. I got some pretty good hits in there, but—“

“You got basically all of the good hits in there.”

“Yes, true, but—it’s like my magic’s not in it’s best form.”

Antonia looks at the three of them with concern, but she says, “Let’s keep going. We can handle more of this, right? I have some healing spells—“

And, from the ceiling, Lydia’s voice chimes in.

“Oh, dear, I’m sorry. Once you’ve lost something here, you can’t get it back! There’s no healing in Wonderland.”

Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't want to have two consecutive end notes about chapter titles, but CAN I STEAL YOU AWAY? is the next chapter's title because it's heart attack time. i'm very excited about that. this chapter and the blue jeans chapter are, iirc, the only other ones with references to other mcelroy products in them? so that's fun.
> 
> magnus is a very bad actor but he has a lich watching out for him. so that's good. 
> 
> uh. julia and lup, btw, have NO HP right now, like, these poor poor girls. it's okay. they'll get better. ish.
> 
> i love you! comment and kudo! please! <3


	30. CAN I STEAL YOU AWAY?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The girls and their friends are stuck in a never-ending cycle of misery. Which, that's par for the course, at this point. But are they ready to find ~love~?
> 
> Julia gets her flirt on. Lucretia gets answers. Lup goes to the spa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> um, so. light warning for homophobia in this chapter, i guess? it's treated as sort of a comically Bad thing, but, like, hey, i'm gay, i've been through some shit, i super get it.
> 
> other notes: the pacing of this chapter is a little bit off. i was originally just gonna nerf two of the girls with their punishments in this chapter, but i decided against it, because julia's acrobatics score being as high as it is is still TOO FUCKING FUNNY to be changed. thanks.

Julia spots something on the ground as they make their way to the next room, and she stops the rest of the group to investigate under a pile of rubble.

And it’s a head. She doesn’t shriek, as much as she would like to, because this seems like it might be a trap. And it begins to talk.

“Would you mind fishin’ me out of here? I’ve been stuck for awhile—“  
  
“Oh,” she says, “Yeah, of course.”

She lifts him up, and displays him to the others.

“My name’s Cam, would give you a handshake, but I don’t really have any of those, uh. What brings you to Wonderland?”  
  
“We want shit,” says Taako.

“We’re lookin’ for a bell,” adds Lup.

“Must be a fuckin’ great bell.”  
  
“It is,” says Lucretia, “We don’t know much about it, but it’s—it’s a very nice bell. So I’ve been told.”  
  
“So, I’ve been here for a longs time, uh, I can—I’m down to show you the ropes. You’ve been through, what, one cycle? Well, there’s no gettin’ out of here. Doubt you’ll get your bell. Best case scenario, you fools are gonna die here.”

“Great,” says i’Morko, “Cool.”

“Listen,” says Taako, “Why would we—why come here?”

Lucretia nods.

“Because you want your shit? It’s supposed to be here, but that’s not my experience.”  
  
“Well, you’re—you’re kinda stuck, dude.”

“Yeah, and these damn liches—they’re feeding off of my misery. Just like they’re feeding off of your misery.”

“So the powerful emotion they chose,” says Lup, “Is fucking. Other people’s misery?”

Cam grunts his agreement. 

And they carry him into the next room.

Julia walks up to the wheel first, just wanting to get over it.

“Oh, you’ve taken on another party member? That’s one more spin, then.”  


“I got it,” says Julia, “I’ll—I’ll spin twice. Cam doesn’t have much left to lose.”

She rolls body.

“ _Julia_ ,” says Edward, “How about—just a little bit, of course, but how would you be able to handle some pain?”

“I’m,” she notes that she can’t come across as upset, at risk of fueling this place, “I’m pretty strong. I can take it.”

It’s a subtle difference, but it’s noticeable. She’s used to aches and pains, but now, they’re amplified. And something in her brain tells her that they won’t go away. And she spins again.

“Hand! How about—oh, two fingers?”

“Left pinky and pointer, make it quick,” she says, “All intents and purposes, I should’ve lost these way earlier. What with. Blacksmithing and roguing and what have you.”  


And it’s almost painless.

i’Morko walks up, pats her on her back as she walks away. He loses some of his dexterity when he lands on hand, and Julia shifts nervously when she realizes that could happen to her. He shrugs, and he walks back.

Lup goes next, and rolls backpack.

“We’ll just take one item of yours. Preferably of some magical or emotional significance?”

Lup takes off her hat. i’Morko, next to Julia, tenses for whatever reason. She throws it to the wheel. A breeze seems to blow it back, but when i’Morko shakes his head, it keeps moving away from the group.

There’s something up with him. She’s gotta figure that out ASAP.

Antonia also rolls backpack, and sacrifices a carefully curated collection of plants—for potions, maybe?

And then, Lucretia walks up.

She rolls hand.

“Look, we won’t—we won’t take your fingers, or anything too gruesome, Lucretia, darling, but how about some abilities of yours. You’re an artist, yes?”  
  
“What’s the penalty?”

“Oh, just another spin. With some heavier consequences.”

“Um. I’ll take that.”

“Lucretia,” says Lup, as the wheel lands on mind.

“Oh, that’s _sad,_ Lucretia,” says Edward, “You were never appreciated, growing up, were you?”

“Don’t—“ a hint of black smoke.

“Well, how about we change things up a little bit. It’s not like you’ll be able to find those who would disagree!”

i’Morko says, “Why do you get off on exploiting people’s traumas? It’s—fucked up. Super fucked up. Not a big fan of that.

“Roll mind and find out,” teases Lydia, “ _Lucretia_ , how would you like to forget the details of your youth? You have such a good memory, it would be a shame to mess with that, but unfortunately, we have to.”

“I’ll,” Lucretia pauses, and Lup limps up to grab her hand, “I’ll take it.”

And Lucretia’s eyes shut. She shakes for a moment.

“Am I done?”

Taako steps up, without answering her. He loses some vitality, upon rolling body.

“This fuckin’ sucks.”

Lup glares at him, “Don’t—Ko, don’t fucking complain, that’s dangerous.”  


“Fine, _Lulu_.”

“Uh-uh. No. Don’t even _fucking_ try that one.”

i’Morko laughs.

And it’s time to play Trust/Forsake again. Julia, Lup, and Taako are all worse for the wear, she realizes, so they can’t afford to trust again.

And when her own face flashes on the screen, she immediately presses forsake.

A wind seems to knock Julia aside, and a different wind hits Taako, and a different wind hits Lup.

And suddenly, she’s at a podium beside i’Morko, In two different parts of the room, there’s Lucretia and Taako, and then Lup and Antonia on another side. It’s a triangular stage.

Not to mention the live studio audience.

The two liches rise up onto a platform in the center. Edward says, “Live from the inescapable depths of Wonderland, welcome to Heart Attack! The heroic romance game.”

“Are you ready to find love?”

“I,” Lucretia says, “I’m in a relationship.”  
  
“Yeah,” says Lup.

“If it’s with her,” says Taako, pointing at Lucretia, “I’m—I’m super gay.”

“Same,” says Lucretia.

“Our setups are random and, unfortunately, unchangeable. You can sue when you get out, kay?” asks Lydia, and she winks. The crowd goes wild. 

“This is bullshit,” says Lup, and she spits out some smoke, which is, weirdly enough, ushered away from her mouth by some invisible force.

“Fucking finally,” says i’Morko.

“What?”

“Uh, the smoke—I have an—an item? That lets me control small amounts of necrotic energy. Or something.”

“Cool excuse.”

“So, the rules are simple! You and your partner have to answer questions to prove your compatibility. We _heavily_ encourage flirting. And hey, if you win, you’ll get some healing. Teams will be led by whoever has the most need for said heeling—team Taako, team Lup, and team Julia.”

Julia, feeling the effects of the previous battle, says out loud, “Okay, so. We have to win. Are you into women, or—“  
  
“Yeah, I am, but are you not… uncomfortable? This is fuckin’ weird.”

“Great, cool. I don’t love this concept, and I don’t like the bullshit that’s happening with two-thirds of these pairings—and frankly, I don’t know you, but. Um. I’m into dudes, so I can make this work. And I need healing.”  
  
“So do Taako and Lup, though—“

“Yeah, but. Only one can win. You down to win?”  
  
“I love competition, so, uh, yeah.”

“Great, love it.”  
  
She struggles to find his shoulder through the chameleon charm, but, after some effort, she places her hand there.

“So, uh, team Lup. What’s your ideal first date? Lup, you first.”

“Um. Well, Lucretia and I just made out on a beach and smoked and then we went home and I cooked a fucking bomb dinner, which was, uh, pretty fucking romantic, if you ask me.”

She winks across the room at Lucretia, who blushes furiously. Julia laughs.

The crowd doesn’t do anything. They’re disappointed.

Antonia chimes in, almost monotonous, “I don’t really do love and shit, but, uh. Take them to my garden and then we talk.” 

The crowd gives some noncommittal claps. The two women do not make an effort to flirt.

So this is in the bag, then.

Lucretia and Taako’s turn goes about the same—a question about them handling their mild levels of fame and a relationship—with Taako showboating and talking about himself and Lucretia hitting on Lup across the room. Julia loves them as people, fucking _adores_ them as a couple. And they’re very good at flirting with each other. 

And then, it’s her turn.

Someone or something makes a sign onto her hand in Thieves’ Cant. For _almost ready._

She responds back with a questioning sign.

She does not get a response.

“Julia,” asks Lydia, snapping her out of the distraction, “What’s the most attractive quality about your partner?”  
  
“Well," she says, and moves her hand down to his elbow, “He’s got a little bit of mystery to him, huh? Also, he’s sweet.”

“Same question.”  
  
“Uh,” he stutters, for a moment, fidgets, and then says, “She’s smart and funny, and I really appreciate that? Also, she’s—she’s beauti—“

Julia stops paying attention at this point, because Lucretia’s voice flickers into his head—and flickers is an appropriate word, considering how little of it she can make out.

_…fun…cast…true…dispel._

Lup’s voice comes in, says, _…re…jul…true…_

Julia contributes, _Say that again?_

And then, Julia’s vision changes. The neon lights turn dark.

She sees the Red Robe, in front of her, tracing symbols into i’Morko’s hand.

She sees i’Morko—or, Burnsides, which, how did she not _fucking guess._ She sees a beam, weaker than it should be, hit him, as dispel magic takes the chameleon charm off of him. She sees, rather than an audience, mannequins.

And she sees, rather than gaudy-looking elves, two skeletons in dark robes, holding air rather than microphones.

And she sees Lup, running out, and saying, “Fuck this.”

The red robe siphons away the black smoke.

Taako had clearly planned something similar, as he has the same look of confusion in his eyes that Julia assumes she currently has. He runs out, says, “I’m done playing.”

Lucretia joins him, and Julia runs out as well. Antonia and Burnsides follow thereafter. Julia stares at him. He smiles, awkwardly.

“So none of you are going to get healed? Oh, _alright,_ we can make this game more fun.”

“No, we’re—we’re ready to make more sacrifices,” says Antonia, “I don’t think romance is really anyone here’s forté.” 

Lup and Burnsides interrupt with, “Hey—“

“I’m trying to get us out,” says says, “Have some damned respect.”  
  
“Next up,” whispers Cam, from inside of Julia’s bag, “You’re gonna play a bonus game. I don’t know if they change or anything, Davenport left me first chance we got to get out.”

“Davenport?” whispers Julia, “I—gnome fella? Kind of imposing, but in a grouchy dad way? Some level of mystery to him?”  
  
“Sure, uh, you know him?”  
  
“Yeah, he’s me, Lup, and Cretia’s boss.”

“Well, looks like he was tryin’ to get rid of you too, then.”

Julia turns her focus back to the group around her, as Edward and Lydia’s skeletal forms disappear and a door on the other side of the room opens.

“Look, Lup, did you bring the Pocket Spa?” she asks, “Because we can regroup in there, get some answers.”

“Yeah, answers would be pretty fuckin’ nice about now,” says Lup, and she pulls out the spa in question, “Get the fuck in.”

“Including the invisible lich,” chimes in Taako, “Yeah, I fuckin’ see you, whispering sweet nothings to this guy.”

Burnsides sighs, “Just—“

And the Red Robe seems to turn visible, as Lucretia grips her quarterstaff tightly. Julia can’t be sure.

They enter the pocket spa, which is quite packed with seven people in it.

“So, should we do a quick refresher on who’s who?” asks Lup, “‘Cuz somebody’s been real _fucking_ quiet.”

“My name’s Magnus, I’m thirty-three, I’m a human, I’m not evil. That work?”  


“You’re a Red Robe, though.”  
  
“Okay, what the _fuck_ is a Red Robe?” says Taako.

“Bunch of evil liches, so we’ve been told,” says Lucretia, “Though, lately, I’ve been having some doubts. Can’t be sure.”  


“Okay, so, we’re not called Red Robes, and I can’t believe that’s the name he’s using. It’s—I’m not a big reader, or whatever, but that’s. You’d call it corny, Lucretia.”  
  
“How do you know what I’d call it?”

“Also,” says Julia, and she rips the pendant off of her neck, “What the _fuck_ is this?”  
  
“Where did you—“  
  
“June gave it to me. You know June, of course.”

“Yeah, uh—how is she? She was a good kid.”  


“Yeah, she was going through some shit with that cup of yours,” says Lup, “Explain yourself, right now.”  
  
“There’s a voidfish—“  
  
“We know that,” says Lucretia.

“Are you speaking in code?” asks Antonia, “You’re speaking in some kind of static. Taako, can you—“

“Nah, Antoine. I’m good _not_ knowing”

“You know my fucking name.”

The Red Robe speaks, says, without the over-dramatic accent, “Uh, so. You didn’t drink the vial, obviously, then. Which, fine. I haven’t really done anything that’s not. Objectively, a little bit creepy. And he’s, for all intents and purposes, a dead man, so, yeah, we really—we goofed this one up. And we can’t have you drink it _now,_ because when _he_ drank it, he passed out, and the four of you—no offense, Antonia—who would be suited to be inoculated, well—you’re kind of needed to help us take this place down.”

“And the [REDACTED] is coming, uh, _real soon,_ right Krav?” asks Magnus—and Julia doesn’t know why she thinks of him as that.

“Yeah, but—you can’t hear that word, can you?”  
  
“No,” says Lucretia, “Look, you said—so, myself, Lup, Julia, and Taako? Those are the people you’re looking for?”  


“The six of us, along with [REDACTED] and [REDACTED], uh, we used to [REDACTED] together,” says the Red Robe, “We were friends. And then, a fight happened? So, uh, we split.”

“Are you implying that—well, the s—“

Lucretia grabs the journal out of her bag.

“J-W. L-T. T-T. And my handwriting. So we’re—?”  
  
“If you try and think about it too hard, your brain’ll short circuit. We’ve both tried, trust me.”

“I’m sorry, I’m lost,” says Taako, “What the _fuck_ is happening? Actually, you know what? I don’t care. Don’t give a shit. Antonia, let’s get the fuck out of here.”  
  
“It’ll make sense soon, I promise,” says Magnus.

And a muted voice comes down into the pocket spa, says, “Enough dilly-dallying, darlings, let’s move on.”

And so they do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i watched a whole season of bachelor pad (season 2, along w/ rose buddies) as i was planning out this arc, and none of the challenges could be transplanted the way i wanted, so i just sort of improvised, mixed up one challenge from bachelor pad with the way heart attack was run in canon, and it ended up real sloppy. sorry.
> 
> as an explanation of the body sacrifice, i gave her, effectively, just some idiopathic arthritis. which is a disability i have PLENTY of experience with, lemme tell you that.
> 
> uh. lucretia's mind roll basically leaves it so she remembers the first fifteen or so years of her life as having happened, but if she tries to go in depth--remember the way her sisters looked back then, or the name of her pet cat, or her favorite book from when she was twelve--she won't be able to recall anything about it.
> 
> some notes on character sexual orientations: lup, julia, and magnus are all bi, whereas lucretia is a lesbian and taako and kravitz are gay. antonia doesn't really wanna be in a relationship, but she's had crushes on folks of various genders. idk. i just thought that in a chapter about ~Romance~ that that was worth noting.
> 
> musical artists i listened to while writing this chapter: rilo kiley, the mountain goats, frank ocean, solange, ezra bell, the original crooks & nannies, and a bunch more. but that's the Mood. idk. i'm chatty today.
> 
> also, my auto-caps/spell-check function on googledocs is thanking me for being able to call magnus by his name again.
> 
> if you have any questions/comments/concerns, hmu! <3


	31. AND TWINS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew learns.
> 
> Lucretia gets meta. Julia has a stroke of bad luck. Lup has a family reuinion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, so how about that episode today? i cried a whole lot because two of my girls were highlighted and another of my girls was slightly referenced. truly, a good day for me. i'll go back and edit some previous tiny bits for continuity, but. yeah. this is not a spoiler free fic.
> 
> also, lucretia has done nothing wrong ever in her life and i know this and i love her.
> 
> um. so notes on this chapter. i had a lot to get done narratively--i had to include an arms outstretched equiv, even though it's a little bit less shocking, i guess. um. this chapter is, unlike everything else about this fic, very prosey and expositiony, and i'm sorry for that! less dialogue makes me sad because i rely so much on dialogue all of the time. but there's not much to say, here.
> 
> enjoy!

Lucretia is too focused on what comes next to care about losing some of her vitality in this round. She, frankly, doesn’t give a shit. She worries as Lup loses vitality, that Lup loses some of her battling skills, and worries that Julia, worse for the wear, gains the bad luck that had already plagued Taako and Lup.

But she’s more focused on what Magnus and the Red Robe told her. Stringing together bits and pieces of information that don’t click into her head—a puzzle with missing and misshapen pieces, but the picture on the box is right there. And it makes sense.

Magnus loses the memory of some victory he brought about to a sports team he coached. Taako loses some of his looks, which he immediately transmutes back to their normal state. Antonia loses a hand.

It’s cyclical, it’s gruesome, and at this point, it’s utterly boring. The six of them—seven or eight, with Cam and the Red Robe, she supposes—have avoided voicing their suffering, and don’t plan to voice it anytime soon. Lucretia wants to move this story along, because what comes next is infinitely more important, more relevant, more poetic than this neon-lit gorefest.

And Magnus' face lights up the wheel of sacrifice. He looks at everyone, back and forth, and, nervously, he presses TRUST.

And they've been forsaken. Because of course they have.

The room transfigures, fills up with mannequins. A voice, robotic, says, "Boss Rush Begin!"

The mannequins take shape into something that Lucretia's mind, again, cannot process, but it does fill her with fear.

Magnus rushes in, and Julia does as well, swiping their weapons at the shapeless mass--Magnus yelling instructions at Julia, and then Antonia when she joins in. After awhile, the mannequins shift again, this time into a flaming dwarf. Gundren Rockseeker

Lucretia fires off Vicious Mockery, taunting the mannequins with some, in her opinion, solid puns about the lost city of Phandolin as well as wood. Taako helps her out, casting Magic Missiles wildly and grinning. Lup hits the next enemy, a model of Hudson the Conductor, with something firey.

It is in this moment that two puzzle pieces manage to fit together. If Lup was, at one point, a Red Robe, and the Red Robes made the Relics, Lup must have made the gauntlet.

And that would haunt her, wouldn't it? Would it be fair for her to remember that she created the device that burned a city to nothing?

But they had to remember for the story to make sense.

But Lup would be hurt beyond belief by that.

It is in this moment that Lucretia considers the fact that remembering may hurt everyone more than forgetting has hurt everyone.

But there's a mannequin model of the Shark Tank to beat. 

"What the hell have you guys _not_ fought?" yells Cam from Julia's bag, as a pile of ghosts takes the room by storm.

"We get into some shit," says Julia, striking Legion down with her sword.

And the Purple Worm emerges.

Taako groans, says, "I'm fucking bored," and polymorphs himself into something large, terrifying, and utterly incredible. He bites the worm into pieces and runs across the room, shfiting back into himself, as the Red Robe blasts a hole into the side of the room. Lucretia grabs Lup, who grabs Julia, who grabs Magnus, who grabs Antonia, and they run over as well.

They're in a dark chamber, unlike those that they've seen before in Wonderland. Cylinders line the room, and Cam says, "You--you really did it, then."

"Surprised?" asks Antonia.

"A little. I'm gonna--I appreciate the work you've done, but I'm--I can't go back to normal, after this. I'm gonna stay here."

And he casts Levitate on himself, and he floats away, not allowing them a word.

"There's a, um. Catwalk," says Magnus, "Taako, Lup, seems like--if you wanna go first, seems like your kinda deal?"

"You don't know me," says Lup, as Taako says, "I'm not a fucking model, I'm a wizard and a chef."

So Lucretia goes first, grabs Lup's hand, and they walk down together. Lup smiles at her, says, "Who does that guy think he is?"

"I--I think he might have a better idea than we do."

"Regardless," she says.

"Regardless," Lucretia echoes.

Antonia follows them next, and then Taako, who has cast spells on his outfit to make it flashier. Julia follows him, and Magnus follows her, until they're all lined up on a stage, the Red Robe lingering behind them.

Edward and Lydia look at them all, with some level of incredulousness that they quickly mask with smirks.

"You made it!" says Lydia.

"We're very proud of you all."

"So proud."

"So, prizes!" says Edward, "We think it's only fair is we get some free advertising from you, having finished your journey so, so, quickly, without much suffering at all."

"You really did get off easy," says Lydia, shaking her head, and she perks up, "Pop quiz! What's the most effective form of advertising?" 

The answer is obvious to everyone, "Word of mouth."

"Miss Waxmen, you rolled skull, yes?"

"I did."

"Step on up, dearie."

And Julia does. Lydia pulls a bell out from behind her back, rings it, and says, pursing her lips, "Bad luck!"

And something happens that Lucretia can't quite process. She draws her quarterstaff, as Magnus rushes forward, the Red Robe vanishes, and Lup, having pieced something or another together, has dropped down to the ground.

Lydia has vanished, Edward having grabbed the bell, and Julia's stance is off, somehow.

"You know," Julia says, "I actually think we should stay!"

And Lucretia understands.

"I like it here," continues Julia, "I mean, all of the treasure we've found, all the bonding we've done, all of this time with [REDACTED.]"

And Magnus Burnsides drops his axe, and he looks terrified.

Lucretia isn't sure if her plan will work. She usually needs to be sure.

She casts Banishment on herself.

And she's in the Ethereal Plane, staring at Lup, Julia, and a hole into the Astral Plane. She runs towards them--floats, more accurately, and grabs them.

It's strange, being there, holding them. None of them can hear each other, though they all try to speak. Lucretia feels cold, for a moment, and then she feels nothing.

And then, she's back in her physical form, Lup by her side, a mannequin on their backs.

The mannequin, through all logical reasoning, must be Julia, because it launches itself at the possessed woman, grabbing the sword out of her hand.

Lucretia takes this as a cue to start fighting, so she launches herself at Edward. Magnus joins her, as does Antonia, while Taako and Lup join the mannequin.

Edward taunts her, mocks her, calls her weak for not using magic, which prompts her to immediately cast Crown of Madness on him and knock him to the ground in his state, commanding him to attack Lydia As Julia. Lup and Julia manage to get the imposter down, and Julia, wordless, stabs her own body.

“I’m gonna vomit,” she says.

“Can’t really do that anymore, my man,” says Taako, twirling his wand until it launches a Fireball at Edward.

And Edward turns the body of Julia Waxmen into ash.

Fuck.

Magnus Burnsides fumes, yells something staticky, and hits him, head-on, with an axe.

He screams, and he dies.

Antonia casts a wind spell, knocking down the doors to Wonderland, and they all stare at each other.

Antonia speaks first, says, “I’m getting out of here. I—you guys are great? But I almost died, like, twenty times today, and I—you are all clearly going off to solve mysteries together? Which I admire, trust me, but—I wanna get back to my garden, and my friends, and my half-brother, okay? So.”

“Bye,” says Julia, still a mannequin, gathering her things off of the ground. She cradles Steven in her arms.

“Yeah,” says Antonia, “Bye.”

She walks away. Lucretia rather likes her.

“Answers,” says Lup, poking Magnus in the chest with her umbrella, “Now.”

“Let’s—“ and the Red Robe reappears, says, “We need to get back to the cave so I can get my body back.”

“Wait,” says Julia, “If you’re—you’re undead, can I also get my body back?”  
  
“The system takes a few months, Jules,” says Magnus, “I could only resurrect after Phandolin because I’m more—I’m more likely to die than Krav.”  
  
“Because you’re a doofus,” says the Red Robe.

“Sure, and you’re the type of person who calls others doofuses. Uh. You three, Taako, Lup, Cretia, you can all get inoculated, and Jules, you’re undead, so it should—it should come to you pretty soon.”

“Yes,” says the Red Robe, “If you get any visions, uh—just tell us?”  
  
“I saw a flash of a purple sky and two suns, and of a gazebo.”  
  
“Perfect, yes,” says the Red Robe, “Both very important.”

They walk through the wilds for hours upon hours after healing up—the Red Robe casts some spells on Julia, while the rest of them drink potions—no one thanks Lucretia for bringing them, which, fine, sure, whatever. As night falls, they end up near some well-carved chairs in front of rock formations. 

Lucretia pulls out a journal from over a year ago, sees a sketch of this same scene, of Lup swinging her umbrella around and Julia laughing.

“We should camp,” says Lup, “We’ve camped here before, it’s safe, Julie carved those chairs.”  
  
“Course she did,” says Magnus, smiling.

He passes out first, out of all of them, and Taako quickly follows. Like Lup, he still sleeps, despite not needing it. So that leaves the three of them, plus the Red Robe.

“So you’re the bard?” asks Lup, “Kravitz, or whatever?”  
  
“Yes,” he says, “I—“

“I thought bards had to learn how to do _good_ accent and impression work?” asks Lup, and high-fives Julia, “Cuz—it’s cuz that fucking accent you were shopping with us? It fucking sucked, dude.”

“Fine, sure, whatever,” he says, “I do sound effects, too.”

“Delightful.”

Julia raises her wooden head up, says, quietly, “I think I might be married?”

“Yeah,” says the Red Robe.

“Okay,” she says, after that, “Okay.”

Lup yawns, says, “I’m gonna try and go a few hours without thinking about something life-altering. Lucretia?”

“I—I’m gonna document this,” says Lucretia, “I can’t sleep, tonight.”  
  
“The apocalypse is coming tomorrow, Lucretia,” says Kravitz, “You should sleep.”

She lays down next to Lup in her sleeping bag, and after a few hours, she has Julia cast sleep on her just so she can be knocked out for a little bit of the night.

When she wakes up, Lup is shaking her. 

“We—those two are panicking. We gotta go. Taako and Julia are trying to stall them so we can get your ass up.”

Lucretia realizes that the past twenty four hours were not an elaborate dream, and jumps up.

“Let’s go, then,” she says.

And they hike further, towards a cave, Julia pausing on occasion, needing a push from Lucretia or Lup to snap her out of it.

“It’s easier on the brain when you’re not alive,” says Kravitz, “Slower. Mags threw up when he drank the ichor.”

“And fainted,” he says, “So, uh, we’re gonna try and help you take it slow. Which isn’t really my thing.”  
  
“Yeah,” says Julia, “Not really my thing either, hon’, but I’m kinda being forced into it.”  
  
“Hon’?” asks Lup, snickering, “Never heard that nickname from you before.”  


“Suits him?” she says. 

_“Sure.”_

“How’d you get your hands on the other voidfish?” asks Lucretia, “I’m assuming it’s the baby of the one that Captain Davenport has, because—“  
  
“Fischer!” says Magnus, “Yeah, it’s Fischer’s baby. We got Carey Fangbattle to help us out when she came down to earth to visit her brother. She’s really good at roguing, so she was able to sneak in and steal it. Also, she’s super great.”  
  
“Super great,” agrees Lup.

“The best,” says Julia.

Lucretia nods.

“Who the _fuck?”_ asks Taako, “Literally, I do not know what you’re talking about.”

“We gotta get him the bigger voidfish’s ichor too,” says Julia, “Anyone super tight with Avi?”  
  
“I am,” says Lucretia, “We get drunk and talk about our feelings sometimes. He’s great.”

“Okay, uh, you and Taako, once we get up there, you head down there. Lup, Kravitz? Go for the Captain and—um. I think Merle? What the _fuck_ , why is my brain telling me _Merle Highchurch_ was part of [REDACTED], sure.”

“No, Merle’s right,” says Magnus, “Hard as that might fuckin’ be to believe.”  
  
“Magnus, you and I are gonna head for the Fantasy Costco, I—I’ll have to be snuck in, so will the three of you boys, but I think we’ll split up after we get wherever we need to go.”

“Look at you, planning ahead,” says Lucretia, and she pats Julia’s wooden shoulder.

“You taught me well.”  


They enter a cave.

And in the cave, there are two tanks, one large, one small. Kravitz throws his body into the larger tank, and emerges back as his half-elf self, naked and confused. Magnus throws clothes at him, and starts pouring drinks.

“Who wants to go first?”

Lucretia immediately volunteers, and she chugs the drink down.

Static slowly begins to clear, as Lup, Taako, and Kravitz drink as well. Magnus fills a canteen with more of the ichor, and he throws a tiny sketch into the tank, which contains an adorable baby voidfish.

“Okay, so, uh. You guys, plus me, and some other folks, we’re,” he sighs, “Fuck, Krav, you’re better at this than I am, um. We’re not from here. We’re from another reality? And we travelled here, and you two are twins, which I guess—y’all can’t remember?”

And that makes sense, thinks Lucretia, as much as Angus might have joked about it. It makes sense. Lup stumbles a bit, catches herself with her umbrella.

“Uh. We worked for an organization,” he says, “That explored the planar system? And then, there was an attack that destroyed our home, and we got away, went to another reality, and. Well, that’s the beginning, I guess, and this happened, uh—ninety-nine times? Annually. And we never aged, and we never totally escaped. We thought we did, this time, but. There’s a big storm comin’.”

Lucretia opens the journal she stole from the Captain—the journal she stole back. She looks at the text she hadn’t been able to see before, and she can read it.

She can read it.

Her head hurts, but she can read it.

Holy shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT TIME: we go to the fantasy costco, we talk to our favorite boy, and the hunger makes its move.
> 
> also another chapter title note is that i came up with this one as i was finishing up the last paragraph and i fucking laughed out loud at a terrible, dated, overused reference. i rewatched 2 seasons of snl this week because I'm Sad, my sense of humor has been ruined, okay? i'm so fucking sorry.
> 
> talk to me!


	32. IN LOVING MEMORY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, fuck.
> 
> Julia loses her head. Lucretia hitches a ride. Lup explains it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> um. yeah. i had half of this chapter written, but i edited literally all of it. i also edited chapter 8, a little bit, so it made more sense with canon. spoilers in this here chapter for taz episode 66.
> 
> thanks, cool, enjoy, bye.

Ten years ago, two men are standing on the deck of a ship. 

One says, holding his head, “That fish of yours, it can—it can block people’s memories, right?”  


“Yes, uh--why?” asks the other man, genuinely puzzled.

The first man freezes up, says, “Push me.”

“What?”

“Push me off of the side of the ship, right now.”  
  
The second man does more than that. He grabs the other man, and he runs off the side of the ship himself.

The first man dies, and the second man lives. This is not how their order of dying usually goes.

The first man’s soul, a writhing, red thing, rises from his body, and sits over the second man’s unconscious form, checking his pulse. 

“I guess it’s just us, then?” he says, casting healing spells on his companion.

“I guess?” says the other.

It’s just them, then. The first man fills in his friend on what he thinks happened, and they set off to fix what went wrong. They buy a device at an auction that can re-grow a body, they make maps to track their missing friends, and sometimes, often, they are both alive and whole, but one of them lacks his memories in that case. And one day, they're both alive, and they both forget something they can't place.

—

Now, though, Lup is remembering. Which is hard to do, frankly, because that’s one hundred years (one hundred!) totally gone, with aspects of another hundred and so missing too.

Her brother’s right there, she thinks, and bile moves up her throat. She chokes it down.

“How long do these things take to grow, Mags?” asks Julia, pointing to the tank.

“Ten months or so? We have aschedule.”

“So—“  
  
“We don’t have ten months, Jules, ‘cuz it's coming _now._ ”

“I have a theory, though, about something in the Fantasy Costco—I told you we were gonna check that out, right? So, we’re gonna check that out ASAP.”

Lup can’t focus. Her brother, her twin brother, is _right_ there. She runs up to him, going for the hug—she’s the more touchy-feely of them, but he allowed it from her.

He holds his wand up to her chest, and says, “Back soon my _ass._ I tracked your ass into caves, I went into a _fucking cave_ for you.”  
  
“You’ve been in caves before.”  
  
“Not by choice!”  
  
He’s crying, a little bit, and so is she. She feels sick. She’s avoiding thinking about the big things—the gauntlet, the glassings, her running away. But she’s letting herself think about Taako, because there’s so much to think about him.

He’s famous. It suits him.

Lucretia is nervously reading the journal she stole from Davenport, some portions spoken out loud. She had known what was coming, back then.

“I—back when I,” she exhales, “Back when I was plotting out a way to make us forget what we’d done—and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I even thought about that, but—he took the idea from me. I came up with lives for you to lead. I got a job at a newspaper, which—I never planned out anything for me. Taako, you—you ran, but you somehow still got a stagecoach, so, uh, good on you? And—“  
  
“I really don’t wanna think about this right now, Cretia,” says Julia, “Uh, dead crew plus Taako, let’s head into the Pocket Spa. You two, make my death sound cool?”  
  
“Obvi,” says Lup, “We’ll really milk it.”  
  
Lucretia is quiet. Lup elbows her, says, “Cash in on this sadness when we’re faking our very good friend’s death.”

“Yeah,” says Lucretia, “I almost—I would’ve done this to all of you, if he hadn’t first.”  
  
“Find something else to focus on,” she says, “Think about the beach year, that was fun?”  
  
“Weird how beaches work for us,” says Lucretia, still quiet.

“I kinda like the symmetry.”  
  
The others load into the spa, and Lup taps her bracer. There’s a storm brewing.

Fuck.

Once they arrive at the base, Johann stares at the two of them strangely.

“Where—?”  
  
Lup nods, solemn.

Killian and Carey, whose wedding was supposed to be in two weeks, oh _gods_ , enter, ask the same questions, freeze up. Carey seems to look at them oddly, for a second, but she shakes her head no.

Magnus had said that Carey helped him. Maybe she knew. Could she sense this kind of thing? Whatever, it doesn’t matter. 

Lucretia hands Merle the bell, smiles at him. The fucker had forgotten his own damn god, because of this. She and Kravitz have to handle him later.

“How’d she—?” Hekuba catches herself before she says ‘die,’ like that’ll make it real.

“Liches,” says Lucretia, with venom, thinking a staticky _sorry_ at Lup, “They possessed her body, and turned her into ash. It was gruesome. We—we killed them, but we sort of. We need the quiet. We’ll talk the the Captain in an hour or so, we just—“

Killian is crying. 

Lup gives her a pat on the back, and treads forward to the Fantasy Costco, for her first drop-off. 

—

Ten years ago, two women are picking out music to listen to.

“I don’t care for musical theater,” says one, “It’s not—I appreciate it, sure, but—“  
  
“No, I get it. You don’t need to force small talk, dude. I’ll put on something cheesy without a plot, kay?”

“I’m just—I’m stressed.”  
  
“I know you are,” the second woman fidgets nervously with a necklace, “I’m so fuckin’ worried, her Relic was—not a big fan of it.”  
  
“Yeah. I’m just afraid she’s gone forever.”

“I know. Me too.”

The first woman holds her head, says, “God, uh, what were we—? Fuck, I just lost track of that whole sentence.”  
  
“Yeah, yeah, that’s—I got that too.”

And the first woman’s eyes light up, for a moment, and she says, “No,” to no one in particular, “Julia, sit down.”

“Have we—have we,” the second woman asks, “Have we met?”

Because they haven’t, of course. The first woman has never seen the second woman in her life. God, her head hurts. 

She hits her head on the couch as she faints.

—

Magnus and Julia slip out of the Pocket Spa upon entering the Fantasy Costco, and they bid their goodbyes.

Lup stops them, says, “Julia, take this,” and hands her a miniature version of the Deals Warlock’s prime sword, “Just, uh—Barry Bluejeans and I stole this, yeah, but, uh. Concentrate, and it’ll go back to its real size. And kick that fuckin’ cat back to the hell dimension.”

“Hell yeah.”

Garfield doesn’t seem to notice anything off about her, calling her by her name despite her mannequin form. After suitable threats, and a threat of exile from the galaxy, he gives them keys to the backroom, Magnus high-fives her.

And, just like she suspected, he’s been using her blood to grow a clone of her.

Which, nasty. 

“Pro-cons list, babe, shoot ‘em at me.”  
  
“Uh, I would say you need to be inoculated, but I got that juice on me, so—“

“Dope.”

“Jules, wait—“  
  
She cuts her own wooden head off.

And Magnus Burnsides is staring at her. She throws her clothes over her head, breathes, and she feels something slash her back.

“Fuck,” he says, “It’s here, it’s here, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“What’s here?”  
  
She grabs the sword Lup handed her, concentrates, and hits back.

Magnus has drawn an axe of his back, though the same invisible force slaps it out of his hands. He tries to grab it back, but he’s cut by his own weapon.

“It’s to your left,” he says, “Hit there.”  


And she does. They stand back to back, him telling her where to hit.

“Grab the axe from my back,” she says, mid-slash, and he complies, grabbing the old gashapon reward that she’s never found much use for.

“Above you,” he says, swinging upwards.

“On it.”

And so on, and so on. She notices a switch on the side of the sword, and she flicks, nervous, knowing the consequences.

It lights up, and she swings downward, hears something scream. She inhales, exhales. She’s in control, she thinks. She’s in control.

“Left!”

And they, cut up and exhausted, run out.

He tosses her a canteen, from which she drinks, and her head burns for a moment, though that might just be the fire from the sword.

But she remembers, and she keeps running forward.

Carey, Killian, Noelle, Hurley, and Sloane are fighting the Hunger—the Hunger, fuck—on the quad, unable, save Carey, who is guiding them, to see it but fighting well regardless. At gasps, she says, “Long story, check your left, Sloane!”  


And she begins to fight.

—

Ten years ago, a woman is running. She’s afraid of what she’s done. 

She hid the glove, she thinks. The world is safer now.

She should head back, but they’ll be mad at her for vanishing. She can’t go back, now.

This is her fault, she thinks.   


She inhales, exhales.

Exhales, inhales.

She’s in a city. She could use a drink.

She orders something cheap, transmutes it into something that’ll taste better.

“Where’d you learn how to do tricks like that, sweetie?” asks the bartender, a middle-aged dwarven woman with extra-thick glasses.

And she can’t place it. She knows she learned it from someone, someone incredibly important, but she can’t place who.

Her head is killing her.

She, despite not knowing shrugs it off, says, “Family secret.”  
  
She doesn’t know why she’s in this shitty town six hours outside of Neverwinter, but, when she’s offered a bartending job, she takes it.

She doesn’t have a job, anyway. She can’t even remember what her last job _was_ , fuck.

Oh well, she thinks.

—

Lucretia and Taako break into Fisher’s chamber without issue.

Avi barely questions them, says, “Lucretia, I heard about—“

She’s having trouble thinking, so she says, “I don’t wanna talk about it. This is, uh. This is Taako, he helped us secure the Relic once Julie—you know. Um. He resisted the thrall, so Lup and I thought that we could—well, practically speaking, we had to think about the last Relic, and, considering how hard these last few missions have been, we just thought it best that we bring down one more..”

“Oh my _God,_ you’re Taako! From TV!”

“Yeah, you’re a fan!” says Taako, running over to distract Avi with signatures and small talk. Lucretia grabs vial out of her pockets, and fills it with ichor, which she throws his way.

“Good thinking, Luc!” yells Avi, “Gotta keep ‘em in the loop! God, I—I can’t believe you’re really here, uh, do you remember the show you did in Brandybuck six years ago? God, it changed my life, changed the way I think about scampi.”

“Aw, I’m flattered,” he takes a swig, “You’re Avi, right? Little Avi, with the, uh,” he pauses, “Oversized horns. You were in row…”  
  
“Six! Seat B.”  
  
“Row six, seat B, yes, I remember completely.”

He smiles at Lucretia, a shit-eating grin unique to him that she’s missed entirely. But that fades quickly. Lucretia turns around. 

And Lucretia sees tar creeping up the side of Fisher’s tank, yells, “Avi, something’s coming, and I need you to get the _fuck_ out of here.”

And Avi, confused, runs.

“Lucretia, you too?” asks Taako, “Considering that we’re—“  
  
“We have to save the fish.”  
  
“You and that _fucking_ fish, Lucretia, fucking _hell._ ”

“You’ll stick around, though.”

He sighs, shoots a Magic Missile at the Hunger, as Lucretia jumps into the tank, ready to break Fisher out.

As glass shatters around her, she sees Taako almost get swallowed by tar. She reaches down, grabs his hand, and rides the fish out of the chamber, smashing through the walls as she goes. It sings to her, and she smiles.

—

Ten years ago, a man is being driven to a new city. He’s got something to do there, he’s looking for something.

But for some reason, he can’t place what he is looking for.

“So what are we doing?” asks his driver, “Vis-a-vis payment. You already told me you’re broke, I get that, but I’m gonna need you to pay me.”

“Uh,” he says, and he pauses, “I’m not really sure. I used to travel around cooking as a kid? If you let me—if you let me run a show outta your cart, I can drive a profit _easy,_ my man.”  
  
“Alright,” says the driver, “I’ve heard worse ideas. Where you gonna get the ingredients?”

His mind reasons that ingredients must have been what he was looking for.

“Magic,” he says, “ _Duh._ ”

—

Lup and Kravitz end up in the dorm without much trouble.

She says, “Okay, game plan. I have the vial—it’s in the kitchen. We grab that, and we run to Davenport’s chamber, grab Merle, inoculate him, ask questions, and then we kick the Hunger’s ass. Capiche?”  
  
“I—I suppose.”

“Yeah, we’re doing that."

And, out of nowhere, there’s a wand pointed at her.

“You’re not doing anything until you tell me just what’s going on!” says Angus McDonald.

“Fuck, Angus, uh, good stealth, there—and—was that a fucking teleportation spell? Holy shit.”  
  
“Talk. Now.”

“Um. Okay, let me grab the vial, and then you can drink, and it’ll explain a bunch, okay kid? This is Kravitz, he’s a friend, he’s—he’s cool. He’s a bard.”

“Hi,” says Kavitz, who, much like her brother, is godawful with children. His voice cracks.

She throws the glass vial towards Angus, who drinks it, and she tells him everything. If anyone can come up with a better plan (and, with one notable exception, she’s pretty fucking good at plans), it’s Angus fucking McDonald, boy detective.

Who has, of course, cast Zone of Truth on her, so he knows she’s not lying. Kid thinks of everything.

And after that, they set off for the Captain’s office.

—

Ten years ago, a man is ready for his weekly game of cards, and he enters his partner’s quarters, deck in hand, when he sees the man shoving pages into a tank.

“What are you—?” he asks.

“She was right,” he says, “We—I have to fix this. I promise, I’ll fix this.”

And the first man faints, not knowing who he’s talking to.

—

As soon as he sees Mac Kravitz’ face, he knows it’s over.

And as soon as he sees Taako and Lucretia enter on Fisher’s back, he knows it’s even _more_ over than he originally expected.

But when Magnus and Julia enter, more alive than he expected either them to be, he thinks this might not be so bad after all.

They’ll hate him, he knows, with perhaps the notable exceptions of Lucretia, who would’ve done the same, and Julia, who he believes is incapable of hate. She throws a canteen Merle’s way, and, boom, off to the races.

Davenport exhales.

The Hunger is here. There’s worse things to focus on.

“This is it, then,” says Lucretia.

He echoes the sentiment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tell me what you think! i love you! this chapter was a fucking episode of abc's lost, what with the really-dope-ride-being-used-as-a-deus-ex-machina, the eighty-seven flashbacks, and the relative roughness of it all, and i'm very sorry for that.


	33. THE DISTANT FUTURE; THE YEAR THREE THOUSAND

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's take a look back, real fast. Get some heroic origins, y'know?
> 
> Lucretia is forced into bonding with her team. Julia plays matchmaker very badly. Lup makes a robot friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rewind time, y'all!

Lucretia is the seventh person to join the mission. She’s the final, until some other girl shows up, limping into the headquarters and claiming Magnus recruited her a month ago, and that while she hadn’t exactly said yes then, she needed to do it _now._ Lucretia’s fine with having another crewmate, glad to have the gender gap in the crew’s makeup close a little bit, but she’s not exactly sure about compatibility.

Well, frankly, Lucretia’s not sure about her compatibility with anyone on this mission. Which is good, probably, she can maintain her status as an outside observer—she can tell the facts, not muddled by personal attachment.   


There are two months until the mission. Training grows more intense by the day.Today, though, Davenport has given the seven of them the day off. She starts heading out, when someone grabs her hood—one of the twins, and says, “We’re going out and team-bonding, if you wanna join.”

“Oh,” she says, “Um.”  
  
“We’re just grabbing lunch,” says Kravitz, “There’s live music at Helios.”  
  
“Damn good food, too,” says the twin, Lup, still holding her.

“Don’t overhype it,” says her brother.

“Just because of one shitty steak frite,” she rolls her eyes, “C’mon, Cretia, let loose! What else are you gonna do?”

She sighs, “Fine.”  


“Great!” Julia, the new girl, claps her hands together, “So, half an hour, two minute walk to the left?”  
  
“I’ll show you,” says Magnus. Those two have latched onto each other already; they get on like a house on fire.

And lunch is good. She doesn’t talk much, mostly just observes—Merle’s the oldest, and he’s a bit left out, so she makes small talk with him. She always considered herself an old soul.

“So, Lucretia,” says New Girl Julia, tenting her hands below her chin, “I feel like I know everyone’s story but yours.”  
  
“I don’t know yours either.”  
  
“You literally took notes when I talked about myself during training the other day.”  
  
“I like to think of myself as a curator of stories, rather than the haver of one.”  
  
“Everyone has a story,” says Merle, elbowing her, “C’mon, kid. You’re too quiet, have some _fun.”_

“My family kicked me out because I became a warlock. There’s your Lucretia Fact Of The Day. Tune in again for another one.”

“There’s a start,” says Lup, who puts her hand on Lucretia’s shoulder, “You’re an enigma, Lucretia.”  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
Greg from mission control spots them, accosts them because he’s fifteen dollars short and needs help. Lup groans and forks it over, says, “You owe me one,” and he nods. 

Compatibility, Lucretia thinks, is something she should probably work harder on.

—

The press conference is uneventful, save Lup, who might be Julia’s new favorite person, dropping the microphone. No one asked about Raven’s Roost. She wonders if Davenport or the head of PR or someone gave the reporters a notice. Regardless, she’sgrateful.

Right now, though, she’s drinking like the world is about to end. Takeoff’s tomorrow, so this is probably a dumb move, but hey, she’s never been one to make good decisions, and Merle had insisted they all go out. The twins are playing pool, scamming money and shoes off of folks, but that’s a double act that she can’t get in on. Lucretia, quiet soul she is, is in a corner, observing, Merle at her side, while Kravitz and Davenport chat about whatever.

And a fight breaks out, because of course it does. Magnus gets a punch to the eye, Merle gets a scrape on his forehead, Lucretia hides behind the bar, while Davenport and Kravitz try and block out the aggressors. Julia steps in front of the twins, who seem more frustrated about the fight than worried about their crew getting hurt. She lands up with a gash on her arm to bandage later, but, hey, at least things can’t get any worse. 

“Coffee?” asks Magnus, wearing sunglasses indoors, the next morning, already holding a second cup out for her. One cream, two sugars. He remembers her preference. She groans, and she downs it in about thirty seconds.

“I wanna die,” she says.

Magnus doesn’t answer, and instead drinks another cup of coffee.

“You have any family you’re leaving behind?” she asks.

“Eh. Cousins. Only child, my dad and I never got along, mom passed when I was fifteen. You have anybody?”  
  
“Uh, my mom, I guess, might still be out there? She left when I was a baby.”  


“Oh. Sucks.”

“Yeah.”

She pulls the crimson jacket with the mission patch onto her body, downs one more cup of coffee, and she breathes.

And then, takeoff. 

Julia isn’t exactly desensitized to the destruction of places she calls home, but she’s more used to it than anybody else on this crew. She stares from above as her world is consumed by tar.

“What do—“ says Kravitz, after almost an hour of silence, “What do we do?” 

“We keep moving,” says Julia, “Right?”

And Davenport nods.

There’s a flash, and the world seems to have reformed. 

—

On the first planet they visit, Lup is stuck on a science mission on this weirdass animal world with her brother and a man who is, objectively speaking, only in on this science mission to hit on her br other.

So, clearly, she savors the nights she spends with the other three people who aren’t off looking for the light.

“What’s up in mongoose-land?” asks Magnus, through a bite of the chili he’d made, because the two of them who were supposed to be cooking got back too late to actually cook. For an amateur, he’s okay.

“Well,” says Lup, “We’re kinda close to figuring out some basic language info? Which is pretty cool.”

“Any grammatical similarities—I—I speak eight languages, if you’d want me to come along and help out?”  


“Are you getting sick of us, Lucretia?” teases Julia, “I like to think we’re fun."  
  
“I just want to be useful,” Lucretia smiles, flustered—and she has a nice smile, Lup thinks. Pity she doesn’t do it more.

“You also have batshit animal allergies,” says Lup, “I read your file.”

“Yes, but the—the allergens might be different here? I don’t know.”

Julia raises her eyebrows, like she’s teasing Lucretia. Lup doesn’t understand what about.

“Hey, uh, Kravitz?” asks Julia, “You’re into the Raven Queen, yeah?”  
  
“My family’s worshippers, yes.”

“I wanna hold a—a prayer sesh tomorrow morning, but you know, sometimes you need four for those, and, uh, _Magnus_ has already agreed. Right?”  
  
“What?”  


“The prayer thing I told you about, _Magnus_.”

“Oh, the thing so we could—“  


“Yeah, uh, Taako, you in too?”  
  
“Julia,” says Lucretia, “This is—you’re terrible.”  


“Lup, how ‘bout you show Lucretia your mongoose friends, while the four of us do my thing?”  


“Why?” asks Taako, who then pauses and says, “Oh, okay, yeah.”

Lucretia sighs.

Lup is confused.

—

Lucretia watches Magnus die as the animal planet is consumed by whatever force consumed her home. Julia is shaking, sitting on the ground, as they leave the atmosphere, which is a concern. Those two are close. She wasn’t necessarily the odd one out, this past year, but—

There’s a flash, and Lucretia is standing somewhere else, and her hair is in the braids it was in when they first arrived on the new planet, and Magnus, black-eye and all, is right next to her.

“I died,” he says.

“You super did,” says Taako.

“Fucking cool,” he says.

“Not really,” says Julia, walking up to him, “Fucking terrifying, thanks.”

Lup has already run over to grab a whiteboard from her quarters. When she comes back, she begins a fucking seminar. She makes fun of Lucretia and Kravitz for being “giant nerds,” but Lup, Lucretia thinks, could use some self-awareness."

“When we first left, what did we see? Taako.”  
  
“Black shit.”  
  
“Correct. And then? Magnus.”

“Uh, that flash?”  
  
“Correct. And the planet was right there, right as rain, just looked a little different. And, Dav, is there a planet in your line of sight?”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“So, uh, in conclusion. I think we might be stuck in a cycle.”  
  
“We should still try not to die, we don’t know if we’re—“  
  
“Don’t be passive-aggressive, Jules, I’m fine—“  
  
“You were dead for a few hours, there!”  


“Few hours?”  


“Yeah. You just die, and then wake up alive again?” asks Lup, interrupting, “Lucretia, you writing this.”

“Of course,” she says. She copies down Lup’s notes—her handwriting is borderline unreadable, but Lucretia can handle it.

“Yeah,” says Magnus.

“I’ll interview you later,” says Lucretia, “Just to—just to be sure on all of the details.”  
  
“Crabsolutely.”

This might be a more interesting story than Lucretia thought it would be—and she did think it was a pretty interesting story to begin with.

—

By cycle eight, Julia has already died once—cycle seven, she was murdered ay random by some dude on a city street in the middle of the year. Cycle eight, though, she plans to not die. Because, in her opinion, it wasn’t a great experience, dying.

So, when Magnus invites her on an expedition into the depths of this poisonous mushroomy hell world, she says “Sorry, but no. I’m—“

“I get it.”

“I’m—I’m gonna help Taako with his fake light, okay? I’m good at building stuff, so—it makes sense.”

“I get it.”

He gives her a hug, and he leaves.

So she’s stuck with Taako for a year. Which is good. She likes Taako about as much as she likes anyone else on the team, he’s funny and creative and easily the best chef out of them.

Their creative visions for the forgery, though, they don’t really click. This leads to some tension among them, arguing about a physical base versus an arcane base, mostly. In the end, they agree not to build until the expedition returns, so instead, she helps Merle with the church.

Then, the expedition returns. Magnus is dead.

Fucking great. Dumbass, she thinks, dumbass dumbass dumbass.

The fake light is not a success.

—

The end of cycle seventeen is when Lup snaps.

Well, snaps isn’t the term she’d use. All in all, this has been a fucking great cycle. She got a pretty dope gun. The robots are chill, and the story of this world that Lucretia and Merle are telling them all about is fucking _fascinating._ Heroics and dirty politics and a rowdy party of three fighting for what’s right. It’s the kind of world that deserves to survive, but that can’t.

So when Davenport is ready to destroy them—to kill off a whole planet for sake of their crew—she gets angry. And justifiably so. That Taako—her brother, who should _know better_ —is willing to go about this. Julia and Lucretia take her side, and Magnus won’t commit to either.

“Robot lady,” says Lup, “Uh, so, would you rather have us kill you and your whole society now, or would you like to try and fight off the inevitable apocalypse?”  
  
“Lulu, fucking phrasing.”  
  
“Okay,” she glares daggers at him, “Well, phrase it better, Taaky. And don’t fucking call me that right now. There are more ethical ways to go about this.”

“We can take the crystal?” offers Lucretia, “There’s interesting technomancy, which—you know, we were barely _dreaming of_ back home—so we could save these souls and develop our own technology to withstand—“  


“I’ll shrink it,” sighs Taako, “Lup, you—“

“No, this is the right fucking thing to do.”

She hands the robot one of her guns, says, “Light them up, ‘kay?”  
  
“Of course,” says the robot.

“Do you have a name?”

“It’s—I am Troth,” she says, “I am Troth.”

“Fuckin’ destroy ‘em, Troth.”

Once they’re aboard the ship, she’s ready to fight her brother, to fight her captain, to fight Merle and Magnus, to fight Kravitz.

Instead, she makes them make a promise.

“We can’t—we can’t destroy others for our own sake. They’re alive, they have _souls,_ we can’t let ourselves sink that low!”

Someone—Julia, probably—cheers. 

“Fucking promise me, hands in the center, here, that we won’t go there again. We’re gonna win this, someday!”

And, with their hands in the center, save Davenport, who is steering, they agree to this.

Lup smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah! comment, please!
> 
> up next is a chapter that is all about love.


	34. FANCY PARTY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's better than a beach wedding?
> 
> Julia falls in love quickly. Lucretia fesses up. Lup makes a dangerous decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MAGNUS: Hey, what if we got married tomorrow?  
> JULIA: Fine.

Julia and Magnus’ eventual get-together is easy to understand. They decide that there’s something beyond friendship, between them, and, in unison, say that they’re in love. Which, weird.

Lup sees the chemistry, sees the way they make each other happy, sees that they seem to understand each other—which Lup can’t bring herself to say about either of them.

What she doesn’t understand is why, one year after taking their relationship to the next level, on a planet that is just a beach and an ocean and nothing else, they’ve decided to get married.

Lucretia, thankfully, is on her side, and they’re debating how to stop this situation from escalating.

“Can we get anyone else on the coalition?” Lucretia asks, as the two of them lay next to each other.

“My brother and Krav are too busy teaching each other valuable lessons about life, the Captain’s takin’ a mental health year and has decided to let everyone do whatever so long as they don’t bother him, and Merle’s officiating.”

Lucretia tilts her head, “He likes to be included.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“I’m just worried—they’re so young—I’m their age, and I can’t imagine getting married. And I’m technically forty-three, I suppose, but—the point stands. I feel like they’re rushing into that.”

“As is in character for both of them.”

“Just—can we really feel like we can commit to any of each other in this?”

Lup thinks about that, and she looks at Lucretia, and she says, “Yeah, maybe. I just—why rush in to get married, is my issue? Doesn’t really mean anything for us, anymore, does it?”

“Suppose so.”

“I—I guess it’s their choice, though?”

“Yeah, but. I just think they’re not thinking.”

Lup hears a distant, “Think fast!” and sees a coconut flying her way. She blasts it out of the air with a Magic Missile.

“Rad!” she yells.

Magnus, the source of the launched fruit, walks towards them, plops down in the sand, and says, “What’s up?”

Lucretia says, bluntly, “We’re talking about how you’re about to make a mistake.”

“I make a lot of those, be more specific.”

“The wedding,” says Lucretia.

“We both wanted to get married by the time we were thirty-five, and we passed that a few cycles ago, so, uh. Once we got together, kinda made sense?”

“But you’re not thirty-five yet, is the thing,” says Lucretia, “God knows how long this—this whole situation’s going to keep happening, but we’re all still in our twenties, the three of us, uh, human-adjacent people.”

“Cre? Uh, not to play Devil’s advocate, because you know where I stand on this, but you did say, like, five minutes ago that you were technically forty-three.”Lucretia elbows her.

“Magnus, I’m just saying—what if you two get into a fight, and the cycles are still going. You can’t cut each other out, you can’t—“

“And if you and, fuck, I don’t know, fuckin’ Merle, get into a fight and the cycles are still going, you can’t cut each other out either?”

Lucretia sighs, “You two are doing this no matter what, huh?”

“Lucretia, c’mon, you don’t want something normal to happen? Ceremony’s tonight at midnight, she stole wine from Cap’nport, gonna be fucking wild. And romantic. Your brother and his boyfriend are coming, Lup, if that’s a draw.”

\--

Julia’s excited for this. The two women who ran the apothecary next to the shop would always talk about their wedding day with stars in their eyes, like it was the best thing that ever happened to them, and they’re the only reason Julia ever believed in soulmates. So, rushed or not, she plans to make this fucking wonderful, the type of thing she’d never forget.

So she gets help transmutating a dress, writes out vows, and she builds, in the week leading up to the planned ceremony, she builds a gazebo, with help from Magnus, who isn’t very aware of the intricacies of woodworking, but who will be, dammit. Everyone, save the Captain, who has taken to just sitting in silence this year—which, fair, the man usually has six young people and one old person yelling at him without any breaks—shows up at midnight.

“You two take each other in—well, temporary death and also life, I guess?” asks Merle.

“Fuck yeah,” says Magnus, and he squeezes her hand, “You’re the coolest person I’ve ever met, Jules. I’m tough, sure, but—but so are you. And you’re smarter about it. And I wanna protect you, and I—You make me better. From the moment I first saw you, in that shop, I think I knew that you and I were gonna be seeing a lot of each other. And—None of the words I wrote seem good right now. I can’t—I’m so in love with you, Jules. And I don’t know why it took me twenty years to realize that, cuz it was there the whole time. You’re the strongest person I know. I—I had more written, but it’s just—I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Julia smiles. He’s crying. She’s about to. She touches his shoulder, and she begins to speak.

“You’re a dumbass,” she says, which isn’t in the vows she wrote, “And I love that about you. I love how you get excited about everything, I love how you’re so emotional, I love how you stick to yourself, and to what’s right. I—I’ve been through a lot. And after losing what I did, I never really thought I’d find people or places or things that could make me happy again. So I heeded the advice of the last person alive I’d spoken to beforehand, and I found you. And I found Lup, and Lucretia, and Taako, and Kravitz, and Merle, and Dav, and I found this, and it’s terrible sometimes, but—we’re living in paradise for a year! And there was the planet of all puppies! And—It’s because of you that I’m okay with surviving, Magnus. You helped me find this. And you helped me find you.”

Merle says, “Cute, but neither of you said I do. So, uh—“

They say it simultaneously. Merle doesn’t finish the sentence before they’re kissing.

When they break, Lucretia, smiling lazily, pops the cork off of the wine with magic. And so, the fun part begins.

—

Lucretia, Lup, and Taako, tired of dancing, have congregated at the shoddy table set up on the beach. They’re mostly mocking Kravitz’s lack of dancing skills, when Julia approaches.

“Y’all okay?” she asks, sitting down. She looks drunker than she really is, Lucretia thinks. Adrenaline.

“Y’know, Julie,” says Lup, “I doubted you, but this is a pretty baller party for seven attendees total and a week of planning.”

“I have my ways. Uh, Taako, I have a conversation about the cake, can you come with me?”

“Of course, darling.”

He steps on Lup’s foot as he gets up, to which Lup responds, “Ow!” and punches his arm.

And he’s gone.

“She’s trying to set us up,” says Lucretia, sighing. Julia’s pushy, but she’s also very good at reading people, and this has resulted in a decades-long quest to make Lucretia’s frankly embarrassing crush on Lup result in something more.

“I know you don’t wanna commit,” says Lup, after a full minute of quiet, “But—I—look, Lucretia, feelings aren’t something I’m great at, but the mood of the night and the alcohol—You told me earlier that you didn’t want to commit. Yes. But—I have feelings for you. I know that Julia knows it, she’s been trying to set us up, and if that makes you uncomfortable, I totally get it, but—“

“She’s been trying to set us up because I have feelings for you,” says Lucretia, “Not the—not the other way around.”

“That motherfucker should’ve just—wait, you’re—so, is this happening, or—?”

“Finally, all eight of us are paired up. Delightful.”

“Okay, so—Merle and the Captain are really bonin’ down?”

“It’s a friends with benefits type situation, from what Magnus and I have pieced together.”

“Okay,” says Lup, “Okay, cool, so—so this thing, it’s happening.”

“We can’t let Julia be smug about it, though, because she will be very fucking smug.”

“Let her,” says Lup, “She’ll find out regardless.”

And Lup leans forward, hooks her arms around Lucretia, and, inches away, whispers, “May I?”

Lucretia nods. In the process, she bumps her nose on Lup’s cheek. It hurts, a bit, but Lucretia leans into the kiss nonetheless.

“So,” says Lup, “Onwards to the next adventure?”

“Of course.”

—

This is about when Merle begins dying with some frequency. Julia doesn’t enjoy it, nor does anyone. They lean on each other—death, while ultimately not permanent, is still hard to deal with. There are good moments—in Tesseralia, Julia joins Kravitz in a tour of the local theater and music scene. Kravitz, being a bard, loves the live music, and she’s big on theatrics. Magnus trains a sports team. Taako and Lup gain new recipes, and Lucretia makes some of the most beautiful art Julia’s ever seen, and sells some of it too. But Merle dies again, after Tesseralia, and again, and again, and again.

It’s a lot to handle. Despite his many flaws, weird habits, and his tendency to quite literally flirt with plants, Julia’s come to see the man as a sort of surrogate father, or at least surrogate weird uncle, and she knows most of the grew does as well. It’s hard on the Captain, particularly.

Julia always saw death as its own adventure. She was raised believing that death wasn’t bad, that it was just an inevitability, part of what made the world worked.

That belief is harder to maintain now. Because people she loves are dead and gone. Because, at this point, it seems like she’ll never die.

The world doesn’t work the way it is supposed to. This makes it hard to maintain faith. She has already lost one father, she doesn’t need to lose another one.

She holds Merle back at the beginning of cycle forty-five, and she says, “Stay for a month or so. We miss you.”

And he does.

—

Lucretia is, when Merle decides to stay around for awhile, practicing magic with Taako. She’ll throw up shields, he’ll try and hit her. She’s getting very good at avoiding these hits.

Lup bursts in, says, “He’s staying! Julia and Davenport held him down, Magnus is getting Kravitz out, we’re gonna have a bigass dinner tonight, so, uh, Taako, you’d best get your ass over to help me. Cre, you can help out, if you want—“

“I’m not—I’m not a super great—“

“I can teach you.”

“If you’re making this a date, Lulu, I’m not third wheeling.”

“You can bring the bardic wonder, if you must—“

“He burns everything, Lu, it’s ridiculous. He can’t cook.”

“Third wheel, then.”

“Fine.”

So Lucretia is given basic duties—cut up these vegetables, darling, find me the cayenne, and the like—but it’s still nice to be included. Lup tells her she’s doing well, says, “Hey, maybe you can give me a painting lesson, now. Or a poetry lesson.”

The dinner goes well, but Lup sinks off into the corner with Kravitz, after an hour of rambunctious celebration. Lucretia tries not to overhear, but she can’t help herself.

What she hears terrifies her.

—

“Kravitz, you’re—you’re the only person on this ship I trust not to get freaked out about this. Because I’ve, uh, I’ve seen you cast Resurrection on my brother, which—thanks for that, but. Seeing Merle, all these years, dying and dying and dying, and we go a year without hearing from him. It gave me an idea. What if—what if, instead of dying and making everyone else mourn and wait for us, what if we died and came back immediately. Just—not as ourselves.”

“What?”

“Kravitz, you’ve heard of liches.”

“Yes—Lup, if you’re implying that we should—it’s incredibly taxing, and—it’s been hard for me to maintain faith, these past few years, but there’s something morally off about it—“

“There’s something morally off about whatever force is making us mourn our family over and over again, Kravitz. Please, just—I need someone to do this with me. And we’ll research it first, and then—when we’re ready, we’ll decide if we do it, okay?”

And Kravitz nods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah, so, uh. 
> 
> comment, i guess! i love you!


	35. NOT GONNA GIVE UP

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The journey comes to a close, and, boy howdy, it's a rough closer.
> 
> Lucretia has a bad year. Lup dies and then un-dies. Julia makes plans to settle down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys. this chapter's got some angsty bullshit, and also, uh, it's got weird pacing. sorry. i made some continuity edits/retcons--chapters 3, 8, and 32. sorry about that. i started this fic before we knew everything, and therefore, plans have changed.
> 
> enjoy.

Lucretia spends her year in the conservatory painting and painting and painting. She hasn’t had much time to paint lately, despite having all the time in the world. She’s generally accompanied by Lup, rehearsing on her violin—she’s gifted, Lucretia thinks, though she’s unsure when Lup would have picked that up. And both of their art forms are accepted by the Light, which is nice. It’s great.

This is when Fisher comes into the equation. Magnus pulls her aside a week after the presentation, says, “Lucretia, I need to show you something, it’s—I don’t know who else to show this to.”  


Which is suspicious. But she’s known this man longer than she’s known any other human, now, so she trusts him. 

The cave with the fish is more beautiful than anything else Lucretia has seen before. It’s decorated with art of every kind, and the light of the cave from the fish almost looks like the night sky. It’s beautiful. Some of the water, dark, splashes into Magnus’ mouth, and he laughs.

“This is Fisher,” he says, as a very tiny fish, relatively, jumps out of the water and into his arms. He grabs a carved wooden duck out of his bag, which the fish grabs excitedly, “We’re friends.”

“This is ridiculous,” she says, “Adorable, but—ridiculous. We’re—Magnus, we can’t save this world. It’s far too late.”  


“But—we’ve kept animals, before.”  
  
“Not magical creatures.”

“We can at least _try!_ Lucretia, this—this is—Fisher’s a _baby_.”

“Have you told anyone else about this plan? Your wife? The Captain?”  
  
“No, but—“ and he stops, looks sad.  
  
She sighs, and she says, “I’ll help you.”

“You’re incredible,” he beams.

So she and Magnus, as the world ends, kidnap a baby fish, and bring it with them. She doesn’t expect to like the fish as much as she does, but it grows on her. She and Magnus take turns observing it, much to Lup and Julia’s confusion. Kravitz’s bored compositions are a good source of food, as are Lucretia’s sappy love poems, Magnus and Julia’s failed carvings and sculptures, Lup and Taako’s poorly planned recipes. 

Eventually, though, they crash.

Lucretia is alone when it happens, in her chamber with Fisher, who is going through a growth spurt. Lup’s in the common area with everyone else, and they crash. 

Lucretia hears unfamiliar footsteps passing by her room. She curls up in a corner, and she tries to hyperventilate as quietly as possible. She, whenever the coast is clear, tries to repair the ship, she works on her abjuration skills to create new barriers. And she flies away from the crash site, once it’s in good enough shape.

Until this point, there have been years where only two or three of them make it the whole way through, but never one where one person is alone. Lucretia has only died twice, so far, the least of any of them. This is not because she has survival skills of any kind, or because she she is more powerful than her crewmates, she thinks.

It is because she is afraid.

The days blend together. She lets her patron possess her, lets them take over for her for days at a time—it is an easier way to survive this. She’ll fly to another part of the planet, all marble and scared humans. She’s lived with the twins and with Julia long enough to know how to steal, and how to run.

She talks to Fisher, sometimes. Sets up letters on their tank, asks them questions. It’s a fun game, she thinks. Passes time.

And it’s good to not feel as alone as she is.

She knows that the other seven are probably dead, by now. There’s a part of her mind telling her that they abandoned her on purpose, that they wanted to get rid of useless Lucretia, of weak Lucretia, of scared Lucretia. This is illogical, of course, because she knows that Lup loves her, that Julia considers her a best friend, that Magnus trusts her with his life, that Merle sees her as a daughter, that Kravitz thinks she’s the most talented lyricist he could ask for, that Taako thinks she’s the first person his sister’s been with that’s worth a damn, that the Captain sees her as a right hand.

But still, _what if._

She is sick of shitty food, sick of loneliness, sick of panic attacks, sick of surviving. She does not write, that year. She knows she is not doing her job, and feels worse for that.

Sometimes, she is attacked when she lands in a new town. The people of this world are used to strong authority, are not used to outsiders. She kills people, this year. She knows Lup would think poorly of her for it. She does not look for the Light. 

She tells stories in speakeasies in exchange for alcohol and for company. Claims they’re fiction. She speaks of seven adventurers—scientists, explorers—travelling through the universe after their home is taken.

She is not a hero in any of them.

The year ends like it begins—lonely, with a panic attack, and with Fisher by her side.

She says, when her team stares at her—and they’re here, and they’re alive, and they’re crying at the sight of her—with her throat dry and her eyes full of saltwater, “I fucking made it.”

And she pauses. Lup takes a step forward to hug her.

She continues, “I fucking made it.”

—

Lup is afraid of what comes next. She and Kravitz break the news to Taako together, that the two of them are becoming liches, and soon, and, despite his jokes, she can see his hands shaking, see the fear in his eyes. She knows him better than any two people have known each other. She doesn’t know what she can do to help him.

He gives her a perfect day—one full of harmless destruction, of good food, of focusing on good memories. She loves him, she thinks, more than anything. She loves Lucretia, loves her friends, but Taako is her heart. 

She wouldn’t have survived without him, and vice versa.

She waits a few days until she tells Lucretia, who, somehow, already knows. 

“It’s dangerous, Lup,” she says, and she whines as Lup starts a new braid.

“You _asked_ for me to do your hair because,” and she shifts her voice to something slightly more like Lucretia’s, “Kravitz and Julia always fuck it up. And I know that it’s dangerous, but in years like—like the year you were alone. If you had died, God forbid. We need assurance that we can survive another year even in cases like that. Kravitz and I—we can fix this.”

“Lup, I’m just—I lost control when I first went through a Dark-Magic-Process. You know that. I—I don’t want what happened to me to happen to your or Kravitz.”  
  
“You studied a week. I’ve studied for decades—Babe, I—somebody has to do this, right?”

“I know. But— _careful_ —I worry. You’re smart, you’re _brilliant,_ and I love you, and I trust you, but geniuses have died in this process.”

“I have you. And I have Taako. And I’m not gonna lose either of you anytime soon, never for more than a few months,” Lup leans over Lucretia’s head, kisses her forehead upside-down, and she says something that she very rarely says, “I promise. I love you.”

The ceremony is small. Julia, Magnus, Merle, and Davenport don’t know, Lup doesn’t know when she’ll break the news.

She feels herself die, and she feels electric, for a moment. She feels powerful.

She feels like she’s about to explode.

And then, she’s floating. She sees her brother, her girlfriend, and Kravitz, who is also floating. And she dabs. Taako laughs, and Lucretia smiles.

And her soul reenters her body. 

“Hell yeah,” says Lup, and she high-fives Kravitz.

—

Julia doesn’t like conflict between people she cares about. Therefore, seeing Lup and Lucretia fight is a fucking nightmare.

She’s not sure who’s side she’s on. Both plans seem like they’ll do more harm than good. But the sequence—Lup’s, then Lucretia’s—makes more sense.

And the Captain is advocating for Lup’s plan harder than Lup herself is.

“It’s the only safe way to go about this,” he says. 

“I wouldn’t go that far,” says Lup, “Cre’s plan is also sensical, and—not to play Devil’s Advocate for myself, eight hyperpowerful weapons could hurt a world beyond fucking belief.”

The vote goes seven-to-one, for the Relics. Lup, Magnus, Julia, and Taako all agree that Lucretia’s plan should follow if the Relics fail, but that’s not to worry about now. That’s in the future. Julia designs hers so that it’s compact. Hard to find. Hard to notice. She doesn’t think something that small, something that’s only real ability is to make others trust you, can’t do as much harm as something like Magnus’ cup or Kravitz’s bell. She hides it on a beach, buries it in the sand, and hopes for the best.

“I lost our wedding ring,” says Magnus, ashamed, when he arrives back to the ship after hiding the cup, “Dropped it, I guess? I—I—“  
  
“We can carve a new one, babe.”

“Yeah, I—I still lost our wedding ring.”

She throws her own off of her hand, drops it down off the deck of the ship.

“Lost mine too. Once we—when we settle down, I guess. Fuckin’ get a cottage, some dogs, live relaxed. We can buy new rings. With fuckin’ diamonds. Get ourselves the gaudiest shit possible.”  


“Make it sharp diamonds, like an extra weapon. You wanna—you wanna settle down?”  
  
“Ooh, multifunctional rings, love that. And hey, we’ve had stability for the past century, in a weird way. We knew what was coming next. And I know you like that. So—I thought—y’know. Once this whole thing’s over—“  
  
“Definitely, definitely. I wanna—I wanna do this, if you—“

“Of course I wanna. Maybe start up a new shop. I think my—I wanna live out the adulthood I planned to live out, y’know?”

The Relic Wars are terrifying to watch, but the eight of them survive a year, and then another. Julia’s Relic is hardly used, only in coastal towns, often to build small armies. It scares her more than anything. It’s doing less harm than others, at least, which is her intention, but it’s hard to see the battles.

It’s hard to see her family haunted like this. Her husband can’t sleep anymore, not for very long, and he’ll hum in static—the static that Fisher causes, through whichever process—to calm himself down. Lup paces more than she talks to others, won’t laugh as easily anymore. The Captian retreats into himself, starts acting like this is all his fault. Lucretia locks herself in her quarters, planning something. But eventually, she comes back to herself. The

This is when her journals begin to go missing. Lucretia panics about this, as she should.

“It might be Lup,” says Julia, as the two of them are on the deck, listening to shitty pop music and smoking—this, for the past sixty years or so, has been their secret coping mechanism, this leg-dangling and mindless chatter while Fantasy Carly Rae Jepsen plays quietly next to them, “Looking at your plan.”

“It might be. I—I don’t think so, though, because we share a room. She was up weirdly early this morning, though,” and Lucretia pauses, looks at Julia oddly, “Julia, there’s something I need to tell you.”

Taako bursts out on the deck, says, “She’s gone.”  
  
“What?”

“She—she’s just not here. Left a note, says _back soon,_ but she’s just _gone._ ”

“She’s trying to fix this by herself,” says Lucretia, “She—“

“We—“

“Okay, so, do we take shifts looking?”  


Taako says, “I’m heading out tomorrow. I—you can’t go out, my man, this needs to be me, I was the last person who talked to her—“

Taako comes back every week or so, with no results.

“I found where she re-hid her Relic. Left a message and my hat.”  


“Finally got rid of that?” Julia says, trying to joke.

He sighs, “I’m heading out again tonight, I—I have an idea? Big cities. She wants to hide.”

And he does.

“Hey,” says Magnus, “Krav and I are gonna—we’re gonna drink tonight, gonna try and have fun, somehow. You wanna join?”

“Uh, “ she says, feeling bad, “I told Lucretia I’d talk to her, tonight, she’s going through some—some shit, obviously, and—“

“I get it. I’ll see you in the bedroom, though, kay?”  
  
“Of course. Have fun on the deck.”

He says, “Hey, I love you, Jules,”

“Love you too.”

And that’s the last conversation she ever has with her husband.

She goes to the common area, sits on the couch. Lucretia is pacing, nervously, says, “Can you put on some music?”

“Uh, sure, how about—you into theater?”

“I don’t care for musical theater,” says Lucretia, “It’s not—I appreciate it, sure, but—“

“No, I get it. You don’t need to force small talk, dude. I’ll put on something cheesy without a plot, kay?”

“I’m just—I’m stressed.”

“I know you are,” Julia fidgets nervously with her necklace, “I’m so fuckin’ worried, her Relic was—not a big fan of it.”

“Yeah. I’m just afraid she’s gone forever.”

“I know. Me too.”

Lucretia holds her head, “God, uh, what were we—? Fuck, I just lost track of that whole sentence.”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s—I got that too.”

And the woman across from her says, “No,” to no one in particular, “Julia, sit down.” 

How does this woman know her name?

“Have we—have we,” Julia asks, “Have we met?”

Because they haven’t. 

She doesn’t recognize what’s happening, and she falls forward with pain rushing through her head.

\--

The gnome is showing Lucretia to her new job at the Neverwinter Oracle, which she does not recall applying for. But oh well, a good job is a good job.

The gnome is showing Julia to a job in Goldcliff, one where she'll have stability and feel like she has a family.

The gnome is not showing Lup anywhere, because Lup is alone, and she cannot remember why she is where she is.

And eventually the three of them find themselves in a bar. It's one of the shadier, cheaper bars in Neverwinter, but it's got a list for freelance jobs, and it's got okay mead, so they're there. A job is posted on the wall, and they all walk up to it, instinctively.

“It needs three,” says Lucretia.

“Well,” says Julia, “There’s three of us right here.”

“I don’t know you fools from fuckin’ fantasy Adam,” says Lup, wielding an umbrella and a fruity drink.

“Julia Waxmen,” says Julia, “Rogue-type.”

“My name is Lucretia, I—I work in the arcane arts. I dabble in them, I mean—“

“What’s your class, though?” Lup raises an eyebrow.

“I—I don’t see why that’s important.”

“I’m Lup, Evocation star, thanks. Now tell me yours.”

“Warlock, then, if you insist,” Lucretia rolls her eyes, “Some people are a bit judgmental of that, so—“

“Ooh,” says Julia, “I get it.”

“We meet with the employer here tomorrow at seven PM,” says Lup, squinting at the parchment, “Cover for me if I’m late, kay? We should say we’ve worked together before, I think that’ll make us seem  like we’re reliable.”

“So, we’re friends now,” says Julia.

“Coworkers,” says Lup as Lucretia says, “Associates.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'll be making edits to past chapters, probably do some oneshots in this verse while the endgame kicks off. please, comment, hit me up on tumblr, etc, if you have any questions! i love you!


	36. THE BEGINNING OF THE END

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, uh. Let's go, guys.
> 
> Lup lights it up. Lucretia regrets some ideas. Julia loots a corpse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, uh, what's up, guys? i'm still working on edits, but i couldn't help but throw in part one of the finale. mostly because today's episode literally killed me dead, like, i'm still beaming. all he needed to do was bring julia back and say "ya lucretia's gay" and then it's like. purely My Dream. so. anyways. i'll talk more shop in the end notes. this is the shortest chapter of this fic so far, and, y'know, i think, considering how much we have left, it'll be the shortest one period. and i skipped over a pretty major fight bc it's less cool in this context, and also, uh, i didn't want to write it again? so. whatever.

It’s like a standoff, in Davenport’s office, Julia thinks. Kravitz and Taako draw their wands on the Captain, which is understandable, but ultimately pointless. This can be talked out later. Right now, there’s a crisis. 

“You took _everything_ from me,” Taako’s voice cracks. She forgot one hundred years of her life, forgot her husband, her best friends, her own recovery from trauma.

Still, she can’t imagine the weight of Taako and Lup’s loss of each other. She, at first, had seen them as one entity, and while she was wrong in that, there was a grain of truth in it. 

Lup, when she had met her for the first time almost two years ago, had been cold, snarky. A little mean, even. Taako had been a loner, avoidant, self-obsessed. Lup and Taako, when she had met them for the first time over a hundred years ago, had been a little cold, a little avoidant, sure, but never necessarily unkind. Never necessarily afraid of making friends.

They lost entire parts of themselves. Each other’s hearts, each other’s constants. Lup has looked shaken since she had remembered, but Taako is fuming.

And then, he turns around, like he’s realized something. He faces Lucretia, and he says, “And you would have, if he hadn’t first—“

“Taako,” says Lup, staring daggers, “Nuh-uh. No. Leave her alone.”  
  
“Lup, she _wanted_ this.”

Julia grabs Lucretia’s hand, says, “She didn’t. She couldn’t have. Taako, _look—_ “  
  
“You’re _defending_ this?” asks Magnus.

“Babe, there’s—there’s more important things to do than point fingers. What’s important is that we fucking kick this thing’s ass once and for all. I don’t know _how,_ but—look, hundredth time’s the charm, right?”

Davenport is casting a spell.

“He’s trying to put up the barrier,” says Lucretia, “Captain, I— _Davenport_. Read the room, you’re—you’re hurting people. Stop this, I—it’s dangerous. I was _wrong—_ I can’t cut off this world, I was—you were so, so, vehemently against my plan, Davenport, and parts of your argument, they were right, but—following it its end is not how you can atone for beginning it.”   


And he ignores her, continues chanting. He’s always been stubborn.

And he vanishes.

And just as he does, three beasts emerge from nowhere, made entirely of tar. Magnus jumps in front of Fisher, who is looking pretty dang helpless. Julia draws her sword, begins running towards the rhinoceros that’s aiming itself at Angus and Lup. She mounts it, manages to injure it, and dismounts, but she lands roughly on her left arm. Her shoulder’s thrown out. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Magnus pops it back in for her, yells, “A little help!”   


And so she helps him. dual-wielding and jumping off walls, as she’s prone to do. But there’s other things going on.

Taako doesn’t move. He’s still pointing his wand at Lucretia.

“Taako,” Lucretia says, “We can—we can talk about this later. I didn’t do what I planned to do because I love you, because I love your _sister_ , and—“

Lucretia hits a centaur made of tar—Julia takes note of a one-liner to use later—over the head with her quarterstaff as it tries to strike Taako from behind.

“Taako, you all were— _are_ —my family. And just because—I. I couldn’t have done it, Taako. I can’t picture a universe where I _could_ have done that, Taako, it’s—“

Lup is looking at Julia, and Julia looks back at Lup.

The elf says, “I have a plan to get these— _things—_ out of the way. But I’m gonna—Julia, I don’t—“  
  
“Light ‘em the fuck up, dude, that’s—that’s your thing. I can evacuate folks, yeah?”

So she runs to Fisher, and she pushes them forward, yells, “Get out, buddy,” as Lup prepares a spell. The others in the room run out, and Julia, almost dragging the fish and her husband, mid-rhino brawl, out of the room.

There’s a flash, a laugh, and, as the doors open, there’s Lup, smiling in front of all of them, the tip of her staff smoking.

“Goddamned fireworks show in there.”

“I’m sure it was beautiful, babe,” says Lucretia.

“It absolutely was.”

And then something happens.

Lucretia falls to the ground, and the few polygonal bits of arcana that she usually has on hand when she’s fighting fizzle out.

Merle speaks, for the first time since he’s remembered, says, “Celestial plane’s cut off.”

Lucretia groans, says, “Well, fuck,” and pushes herself up. She exhales, “Angus, you and I, we’re gonna look for Davenport, okay? I—I’m only about as good as my brains, right now, without magic, so I think some detective-work is the most practical thing I can do.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

Lup says, “Lucretia, you’re _far_ more than your brains,” with a corny-ass wink. Taako glares, but sighs.   
  
“Broseph, Ghost Rider, we’re gonna go down to Phandolin. Ya girl’s got a _cunning fucking plan_.”

“Wanna elaborate?” asks Julia.  
  
“Remember Maureen’s mirror bullshit?”  
  
“Circle of a gemstone, yeah? Wait— _fuck.”_

“I’m gonna take our best transmutator and our best necromancer, and the three of us are gonna bring back the dead. Anyways. Bluejeans and I are tight now. So—“  
  
“Does he know you’re a lich?”  
  
“Probs.”

Julia rolls her eyes, “Mags, Merle, we’re gonna hold down the fort with Sweet Flips, that cool?”  
  
And Merle, suddenly, is gone, in a puff of smoke.

“ _Fuck_ me,” says Lup, “He’s—Parlaying.”  


“What’s—“  
  
“Talking to the apocalyptic hellbeast, Ango,” Julia pats the kid’s shoulders, “It’s a thing he does, and it might—it might save us, y’know?”

“So, babe, Sweet Flips, y’all down?”  
  
“Hell yeah,” says Killian. Carey pumps her fist, and Noelle cocks her weapon, smiles wide.

Magnus takes her hand, pulls her and the other three up onto Fisher’s back.

“Let’s go, buddy,” he says.

And they’re off.

The Bureau’s headquarters is a wreck. It’s disheartening. She sees bodies, splayed out, people she never bothered getting to know lying dead on the ground. The lump in her throat grows larger.

And then, Johann.

Carey jumps off, and Julia follows.

“What’s—“  
  
“He’s a friend, Mags,” she says. There’s music in his pocket.

It’s in Julia’s nature to check the pockets of a corpse. It’s in her nature to loot a dead man’s body, regardless of how close she was to them. On crutches, covered in bandages, about to take a wagon to her world’s capital city, she had stolen her father’s old jacket, taken all of his gold. He had left no will. She took a small painting of her mother out of his jacket, took his glasses off of his apron. She had taken everything from him. She hadn’t felt guilty. He would have wanted her to keep his things safe. 

And now, she was doing the same to her friend. She doesn’t know why she feels guilty. He would want his music shared; he would want something to be remembered by.

“He—he played this for me, y’know,” says Carey, reading the piece. 

Fisher sings out an F sharp. A code for food, Julia remembers.

Fisher had liked Johann, had relied upon him like they relied upon Avi for feedings. 

“It’s his best piece,” says Carey, “Swear to the gods, I made fun of the kid for his music, but—he might be the best bard there is,” and she pauses, "Have been. Past tense, and all."  


“I have an idea,” says Julia, and she snatches the paper out of Carey’s hands, and she feeds two pages to Fisher, and, jumping back on, shoves the other two into Magnus’ bag, where the baby is being stored.

And there’s a light in his bag, and the baby fish jumps out to join their parent. They sing, for a moment, the song on the paper.

And Julia hears a story she knows very well. A story she’s known for a hundred and ten years, and a story she’s known for about thirty minutes, depending on her point of view.

She sees all of existence, all at once. She sees a dark storm, a living hunger, eating it from within. She sees a brilliant light heralded by eight birds flying tirelessly from the storm. She sees eight birds.The twins. The protector. The peacemaker. The storyteller. The leader. The conductor. The survivor.

And she sees them fighting, and surviving, sees herself fighting, sees herself surviving. She sees herself falling in love, sees her two best friends realizing that they love each other.

And she sees herself die. She sees Lucretia’s year alone, feels the thought _they’re all gone_ , and she feels the desperation in Lucretia to her very core.

And she hears a song. Johann’s song.

She smiles.

Carey and Killian and Noelle have all seen the same thing.

Carey says, “Told you I knew aliens,” and elbows Killian, who laughs, says, “Y’know, I was joking when I told you your swordsmanship was out-of-this world.”

“Aw, fuck you.”  


The song repeats in Julia’s head, and she thinks to herself, _We’ve got this._

And even if they don’t, they’ll find a way to win it. Hundredth time’s the charm, yeah?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fic/my writing-related updates:  
> -edits are MOSTLY DONE through pttm, though i'm gonna go over those arcs again. i'm sorry for the, frankly glaring errors in this fic re: formatting, spelling, and grammar. i hate having them in my own writing, but i'm also deeply impatient, and, for the majority of my time writing this fic, i was not in a Great Place. i'm fixing them slowly but surely.  
> -uh, so, yeah! the finale arc, like in canon, is three chapters long. part two will probably be out before the show proper's finale, but who knows!  
> -#griffinpleasebringbackjuliaandgiveheraswordinepisode69  
> -i put out a one shot au about lup and angus earlier this week! it might become my next multichap after i finish this bad boy, though idk. so. that's cool.
> 
> me updates:  
> -i have a new podcast, if you're interested in two nerdy gals making jokes about how tv-news-personalities are viewed as celebrities in their own right. it's called chuck toddcast, and there are two episodes up on libsyn, itunes, and a bunch of other platforms right now. check it out!  
> -i also have a new job bc i quit politics! which is very good. idrk if y'all pay attention 2 my personal notes, but i was in a rough place during my campaign job, and now i'm doing something that isn't leading to heat stroke and is also paying me, so. yay  
> -my tumblr is @yahooanswer, if you wanna chat! i'm chatty! y'know!
> 
> anyways! kudos and comments bring me life. seein folks comment as they read through really, really means a lot to me, makes me smile. so that's fun. uh. anyways. y'all rock. love you, bye!


	37. GOOD ENDING UNLOCKED

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The apocalypse rages, but, uh. I can still make jokes, right? Yeah?
> 
> Lup reunites with an old friend and watches a great movie. Julia remembers a prophecy. Lucretia cries a lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YEAH. another short one. a lot of action offscreen, some weird formatting. hell yeah.

Lup, by the ruins of Phandolin, is frustrated.

Her brother is the most talented transmutator that she’s ever met, but he’s out of practice, doing this hardcore shit. The judges are coming, which is terrifying, and Kravitz’s attempts at being encouraging are doing about as well as any attempt at being encouraging from goddamn-Mac-Kravitz can go. How the man is a bard astounds her. Inspiration is a bard’s whole _deal,_ right?

But Taako should be able to do this. She’s casting spells wildly, and he’s just failing. It’s probably just the memories coming in slow, or something.

But whatever.

And then, Lup has an idea, and, it’s like time slows down around her as she throws her brother the bag that Istus had given her.

Taako moves in high-speed, and there’s a wagon by his side, and, suddenly, Phandolin, from where ashes once stood, is back.

“Oh, I played here once,” he says, and then, “Thanks for the bag, sis?”  
  
Barry Bluejeans is rushing forward. Tar-stained denim, broken glasses, but he looks relieved to see a familiar face.

He opens with a smile, and a, “Oh, you’re _alive!_ ” and he hugs her, and she hugs back, “I was so worried, uh— _Lup,_ it’s so nice to see you.”  
  
“Uh, so, I’m—“  
  
“We’ll talk about you being a lich after the world’s over, alright? Cuz—look, Lup, I’ve made a lot of excuses for you, but the Raven Queen’s, like, weirdly partial toward you, dunno why, so—You’re _okay,_ holy shit, I—I didn’t know if you were—is that your brother, back there, with the, uh, other lich?”  
  
“Are they—are they making out?”  
  
“Yes. It’s sweet, but, uh, I feel like I’m intruding?”  
  
“No, they’re always like that, uh—“  
  
“How’s that stolen sword? I didn’t put in all of that effort for you not to use it.”  
  
“Jules has it? So, presumably, it’s being used recklessly. And to kick Hunger-Ass, which, like, of course. So.”  
  
“As all stolen swords should be used. God, one time, back when I was alive, a buddy of mine in grad school, she had a sword with a flame curse on it, and she just went _buckwild_ with it, it was fucking insane. We may have had some minor property damage, but like—gotta party, right?”

“Sounds great, babe, but, like, the world’s ending, so, uh—Kravitz, Broseph, fucking—cast spells on that thing, I’ll be there in a sec!”  


“Yeah, uh, be—I’ll handle this, I have an idea?”  
  
“Okay, go for it, bud?”  
  
And he releases souls from the sapphire, and he laughs, says, “Fuck, I’m in trouble.”  
  
“Proud of you. Rulebreaker.”  


And she casts a Fireball at the judge, and she grins wildly at Barry.

“You wanna come up and help us?”  
  
“I’m gonna keep my eye on—y’know how liches are.”

“Ugh, the _worst._ ”  
  
He laughs, says, “I’ll see you when this is over.”

And she runs up to her team, and they start heading back up to the base.

Julia runs up to her as soon as she lands on base, nearly crushing her with a hug.

“Did y’all—“  
  
“Bluejeans set out a bunch of dead people, was dope. Also, Taako did some dope transmutation, so—“  
  
“Proud of him.”

“Yeah, me too. Uh, what'd you—“  
  
“Fought a bear, Avi, used some invention to save us, all—like, C-plot-level bullshit, y’know? But, uh—“  
  
“Yeah. Hey, are you good? You look a little worse for the wear.”  
  
“It’s the end of the world, Lup, c’mon. We all look like shit.”  
  
“Hey.”  
  
“Except for you. You’re gorgeous. As always.”

Merle pops up onto base, says, “Uh, back, hi.”

Lucretia and Angus come running in, say, “No sign of him. Or of the ship, which—“  
  
Hekuba, Mavis, Hurley, and Sloane run in from the next room over.

Mavis says, “I have an idea?”  
  
“Shoot?” asks Lucretia, clearly a bit confused.

“I found something weird by accident one time, back when we were first building the base with Dr. Maureen, and, uh—I think that might be where the Captain is?”

She runs over to a tree, drags down on it with her roughly-assembled Beginner’s Wand, and a door opens.

“My genius,” Hekuba preens. Merle walks over to her, pats her shoulder.

“Good memory kid.”  


“Thanks, dad!” says Mavis, who then immediately corrects herself, “I mean. Mr. Highchurch. Gosh, uh—“  
  
Merle is clearly trying not to beam. Lup sympathizes with the kid. Way back when, she’d run into this exact issue.

“It’s the ship!” yells Magnus, running toward it.

And Davenport emerges.

“Look, I swear,” he says, “We—“  
  
“Look,” says Magnus, “The Relics failed. This plan’ll fail too—“  
  
“It’ll cut us off,” continues Kravitz.

“Or, we could run,” says Taako, “I’m—I’m good here, but—“  
  
Lucretia says, “I think—look, my plan, it leaves us cut off, but we’ll _live,_ right? It—it has its side effects.”  
  
And Lup wants to scream. She loves the woman, but she’s wrong, so many people will die.

“We—we have to choose,” says Kravitz, “Davenport, Lucretia, you want to cut this world off. Kill its crops, its water sources, its arcane energy, that—that can’t be good! That’ll kill people, there aren’t enough—we have to move on.”  
  
“We can try the relics again,” says Lup, “Make them safer. Make them—“  
  
Julia grabs Angus, holds him tight. Killian stares at Lup, Carey shakes her head.

“There’s a third option,” says Julia, “Y’all—you remember what Paloma said, right? Back in Refuge? There’s a third option.”  
  
“Batty old woman who sounded like Fantasy Buh-jork?” asks Merle.

“Pronunciation aside,” says Lucretia, “That’s accurate. Are you familiar?”  
  
“She gave me this,” and he pulls a crystal out of his pocket, which falls to the floor, shattering.

It plays out like a montage, like those movies from some of those cycles.

INT. KITCHEN — EVENING. KRAVITZ is tasting brownie batter off of a spoon, and he’s SMILING, as TAAKO tells some dumb, self-aggrandizing story while chopping up some

chocolate. There are old SIZZLE IT UP! posters hung up on the wall, and the two of them seem to be in motion. They’re on a fancy wagon, 

 

FADE to EXT. PARK — AFTERNOON. ANGUS is playing with a horde of DOGS while JULIA and MAGNUS watch on. JULIA is cheering on one of the dogs, and MAGNUS is casually WHITTLING.

 

FADE to EXT. GOLDCLIFF — MORNING. HURLEY and SLOANE are, masks off, in a BATTLEWAGON together, ready for the NEXT ADVENTURE. They look CONFIDENT, PROUD. Battlewagon racing is their LIFE.

 

FADE to INT. LIBRARY — EVENING. LUCRETIA is sorting books, scrawling something out on a paper. LUP appears from behind a shelf, and ambushes her partner with a kiss. 

BARRY is there, holding a cake, with a number in the hundreds on it. 

 

FADE to EXT. BEACH — AFTERNOON. HEKUBA and MAVIS are building a sandcastle, while MERLE relaxes under a tree. Something about the scene exudes PEACE, tranquillity. 

 

FADE to EXT. ROCKPORT — NIGHT. AVI is building something tall and looming in the center of town, and he looks prouder than he’s ever looked in his life.

 

FADE to INT. CABIN — DUSK. CAREY and KILLIAN are reading a book together, under

a blanket. They are dressed for winter, and the room is lit up by a FIREPLACE. 

 

And scene. 

“How do,” Lucretia is in tears, “Julie, how do you propose we—“

“I—I want that,” says Magnus, beaming, “Let’s—“  
  
Taako interrupts, “We—your spell, Lucretia, Davenport. It can cut off just one plane, right?”  
  
“That’s where—thank you, Taako!” Julia continues, “So, fi we cut off one particularly invasive plane, just—y’know, sneak up on it—“  
  
And Lup interrupts, “Shit, we can cut it off completely. Break its bonds.”  
  
“Like John said,” says Merle, “He—he told me to break the bonds.”  
  
“So, uh. We doin’ this, or are we doin’ this?”  
  
The Captain says, and he smiles, “I’ll fly us to it.”

Lup walks into the ship that she used to call home.

“I’m staying down here,” says Kravitz, “Taako?”  
  
“Oh, hell yeah. Let’s save this world, right, darling?”  
  
“Don’t die,” Lup teases, “Or disappear.”  
  
“Same could be said for you, Back-Soon.” 

She hits him with her umbrella.

Julia says, “Hey, I’m—I’m bringing the kid with us.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Good learnin’ experience, for him to see talented arcanists literally stopping the apocalypse? I’m his teacher, I—It’s almost my _duty._ He’s a baby, let him see how cool magic can be.”

“I’m also his teacher,” says Lup, “And—he’s—you said it, he’s a _baby—“  
  
_ “I’m also a person, ma’ams,” he says, “I wanna go up.”

“Lup,” Julia whines, “He wants to _go._ We have to let him.”  
  
Lup groans. Merle also groans. Lucretia laughs.

“So, uh,” says Lup, “Y’all ready to become legends?”  


And Lucretia grabs her hand, “We already are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comment! please! i love you! i have work when the finale's due to drop, but as soon as i listen and manage to get over whatever feelings it gives me (which will, inevitably, mean i cry for several hours), i'll start writing. i might tack on an extra chapter, if i feel the need for an epilogue, but we'll see after everything happens. uh. i love you guys a lot. i know it's been rough for a lot of us lately, cuz it's always rough for somebody, but, y'know, let's fight back with unadulterated love and kindness and other assorted shit.
> 
> some self promo, real fast, cuz i'm a dick:  
> personal blog: yahooanswer.tumblr.com  
> podcast: chucktoddcast.libsyn.com  
> you know where to find my other fics.
> 
> <3


	38. FINALITY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end.

When the Hunger—John, Merle calls it, though Julia takes umbrage with humanizing the force that’s trying to destroy the world. She doesn’t want to think of it as sentient, she thinks that living beings are, by their nature, good, and this _thing_ has nothing good within it—reaches the deck of the ship, four of them are on deck. Lucretia is channelling her spell, while Davenport drives, and Angus has been kept in to observe.

And, of course, the four of them on deck get their asses kicked.

The Hunger unleashes fire, unleashes rage, and Julia panics, but she keeps on fighting. She’s terrified, but Merle’s already down, Magnus is bloodied, and the glass window has shattered, leaving everyone inside vulnerable.

So she keeps on fighting. Lup launches spells confidently, grinning, and Julia brings down her swords on each orb. But they keep regenerating, and she doesn’t. This is the hardest battle yet.

Lup and Magnus fall simultaneously, and as Julia checks back to make sure Lucretia and Angus are safe, she gets hit hard enough to fall.

And she hears a hum.

And she’s awake.

Merle summons Pan, gets them all healing.

Magnus summons Troth, who knocks out one of the orbs. She’s an extremely buff tiefling, as it turns out, and not an extremely buff robot with a soul, and she’s, Julia admits, _exactly her_ type. As far as looks and general ability to kick ass go.  
  
(She _definitely_ has a type.)

Lup says, “I got this,” and she says, “Barry, ‘sup?”  


Death emerges from the portal that’s opened.

“Lup, I’m—I’m tryin’ to help save the world, but—can I—?”  
  
“Can you use one of your death powers on, uh, the green orb?”  
  
“Sure? Death powers is, uh, pretty vague, but—“  
  
“Babe. Darling. Barold. You know what to do.”

He sighs, puts his hands in his jean pockets, removes them, and blasts the green orb with something cold and gray that makes Julia feel, for a moment, like she’s dying.

The green orb falls.

“Barry,” says Lup, “Can we talk about—y’know. Employment, after the world’s over? I have an idea that could get me in good with the good ol’ RQ.”  
  
“Don’t call her th—“ Julia and Barry both start, but they stop themselves.

Julia goes next, and, having seen Magnus summon a dead woman, she summons her father, who smiles upon seeing her. He looks like he did the day he died. He nods at Magnus, at Lup, and he, wordlessly, blasts the Hunger.

And he disappears.

Julia smiles to herself.

The fight rages, and rages, and rages. And, with a pretty brilliant move from Lup, the creature that’s haunted them is knocked back. It feels, for a second, like it’s over.

But something happens. The ship shakes, and Julia looks up.

Vertigo takes over her, for a moment, and then, darkness.

 

—

 

Lucretia focuses on her spell, knowing that this is her chance. She’s had this idea for _decades,_ and the problems with it were _fixed,_ and now, she has a chance to save the world. She can help her friends.

She can help her friends, and she can do it by herself. She can repent, she can _help,_ dammit. This is her destiny. The buzzing in her head tells her that much.

A portal opens—a circle, showing the real world, everything in it.

She turns, yells, “All of you—go home. I—I can do this. I promise. It’s my fault we’re in this mess, I—

“We’re not going anywhere,” says Lup, whose hand is on her shoulder. When Lup had gone down, earlier, Lucretia had panicked at the finality of it—they had both died before, both seen each other die, and Lup had a failsafe, sure, but—

She can’t risk losing anyone because of something she did again.

This is her chance to make that stop forever, to change the world.

“Magnus,” says Julia, “You and Angus, head back. I have a feeling Taako and Krav’ll need some brains and brawn. Cuz—y’know. They’re dumbasses, and also, they’re mages.”

Angus says, “Yes ma’am,” and Magnus groans, but complies, with an “I love you.”

“Julie, Lup, I—“  
  
“Babe,” says Lup, “Even if Istus was, like, yelling at me to leave now, I wouldn’t. I—We got you.”

“You don’t wanna lose us, and I get that, cuz—Lucretia, we don’t wanna lose you.”  
  
Her breath hitches, “That’s really besides the point.”  
  
“It’s not. Dumbass. And this isn’t your fault,” Lup glares pointedly at Davenport.

And Lucretia continues, exhales. Davenport stands at her side, chanting with her.

Merle is quietly healing all of them—something that has never been his wont before, but she is grateful.

Lup grips Lucretia’s shoulder with one hand, casts wild spells with the other, and Julia has run forward, casting and jabbing excitedly, a smile on her face.

And Lucretia’s heart swells, and the barrier goes up, and, against all odds, see, it works.

She falls to the ground, shaking, and wakes up surrounded by light.

She zones out. She’s been paying more attention than any of these fuckers for 100 years, they can do the lifting in that department, for once.

“You’re so strong,” says whatever being is in the train, staring at her, “So brilliant. I’m very proud of you.”  
  
“Thank you,” she says and she zones out again.

Merle is crying, for some reason. She’ll expend those emotions, ask those questions later. But for now, she’s just repeating to herself that it’s over. That she made it.

She _fucking_ made it.

And so did everybody else.

—

Lup runs up to her brother as soon as the group is back in Faerun. And that makes sense. She lifts him up, and she cries, and she says, “We fucking did it!”  
  
And it’s like that for a while. Hugs and kisses and yelling and crying and smiling. Which is good. It’s good to feel good. Angus climbs up on Julia’s shoulders, and Lucretia almost tackles Lup to the ground in a hug. Avi breaks out some drinks, from gods know where, and Killian and Carey kiss again and again. Sloane and Hurley are in a wagon, tearing up the area around them in celebration.

There are people who are dead, of course. Johann, namely. Noelle is the one to break that news to Lup, tearfully. 

But it’s over. That’s what matters.

—

Here’s what happens next:

Barry Bluejeans offers Lup and, after some haggling, Kravitz jobs, which Lup accepts in a heartbeat. She and her brother-in-law can agree that the dude needs to develop a flair for the dramatic, which they can definitely assist with.And they do. She’s good at it, too.

Lucretia rebuilds the world. She inspires the world; uses words and art and hope to inspire a better society. She’s fucking _good_ at it.

Lup and Lucretia move into a tiny, cheapass apartment in Neverwinter, not quite befitting for the world’s saviors, some enough, but they like it just fine. They’re both always out on work, anyway—Lucretia working on humanitarian efforts, Lup reaping the dead and making a scene of it, but they make it work, because they’ve always made it work. Astral plane vacations and team-ups are common, and full of love.

Julia, after much fighting between the group over who would gain custody, ends up with Angus, who goes off to study and, eventually, teach at the school Taako establishes. She never really wanted kids, mostly because she was either not married or not in a stable situation, but Angus is different, as far as kids go. A baby brother. And Magnus adores the kid, and the kid adores the dogs the two of them train.

And the three of them, they stay in contact. See each other as often as possible. They were the ones who had found each other, the ones who had relied on each other without any reason to rely upon each other. That had to mean something.

So they stick together.

—

Here’s what happens at the wedding:

Carey and Killian get married. Simple as that. Noelle and Julia serve as maids of honor, Julia weeping about that fact before, during, and after it. Merle officiates, dropping no less than eighteen “shits,” in the middle of it. Lup sheds a single tear from happiness. Sloane and Lucretia, both entirely uninterested in the tradition, catch the bouquets by sheer accident. And nearly everyone gets entirely wasted at the reception.

So, all in all, a fucking great wedding.

—

Here’s what happens in the astral plane:  
  
Julia is the first of them to properly die, aged sixty-nine (Lup had warned her, prior to, with a dumb grin on her face. Julia had smiled). She’s offered a job in the astral plane—not a reaper, but more of that of a therapist for troubled souls. She’s dealt with trauma, she’s dealt with loss, and she understands them intimately. She feels useful when she’s helping people, feels good when she’s helping people. By the time Magnus joins her, about ten years later, she’s assembled a massive group of ghosts into a huge-ass cabin, where she works and lives, and she hugs him tight as she can.

“Who’ve guessed you’d live longer?”  
  
“Lucretia, apparently,” he says, “Lup owes her gold.”  
  
“Oh, fuck Lucretia,” she says, and she sighs.

Lucretia is the last of the humans to die, proper, having teased that Lup loved her too much to ever let her die. And Lup _might_ have bent the rules a little bit, sure, with a little bit of help from Julia, but Lucretia was destined to live longer than the others regardless.

She moves in with her friends, because of course she does. She isn’t offered a job, but she, like Magnus, is granted permission to stay regardless. As long as they need, says Barry, which seems to be code for, “Never, if your partners have anything to say about it.”

—

But, that’s decades away, so many millions of moments away. Here’s what happens two years after the world was supposed to end:

The three of them are sitting in Neverwinter, in the bar where they met.

Well, the bar where they technically met. They’re not really sure how to refer to it otherwise.

They’re low-key as they can be—they’re famous, now. Taako’s been the only one to take to fame, really, but to the three of them, it’s still odd to be accosted on the street for saving the world; it’s still odd to have the ethics of their actions debated to their faces.

They’re having a good night. There’s a band playing some terrible dance song in the corner, and Julia is dancing to the beat in her chair, and Lucretia is making fun of her, while Lup goes out and grabs more shitty drinks to transmute into better drinks. The night gets fuzzy, tired, warm.

“Can I crash in y’all’s place?” Julia yawns, “Train ride’s at three PM and, uh, I forgot to make arrangements otherwise.”  
  
“We’re headin’ to Goldcliff on the three PM train, there’s—there’s a race.”  
  
“Oh, yeah, forgot to say I was goin’ there too. Ango’s thirteen next month so we’re doin’ a big trip, and Mags is takin the train tomorrow, so—“  
  
“Extended reunion,” says Lup, “Hell yeah.”  
  
“Hell yeah,” the other two chorus.

“I dunno how I made it ten years without you guys,” says Julia, with a smile that feels wrong.

“Don’t—“  
  
“I’m jus’ sayin’,” she says, “Y’all are so good.”  
  
Lucretia, awkward, pats her back, “You’re good too.”  


Eventually, they walk out of the bar, Lucretia holding Lup’s hand, Julia leaning her head on Lucretia’s shoulder. The world is stronger now, it’s better now, it’s kinder now. It has work to do, but in this moment, with these three women walking down a street in the middle of the night, the world is wonderful, it is at peace, it is beautiful and good.

And that’s worth something, they all think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so. um. here we go. i'll post some plot-related liner notes in a few days, but for now, some bullshit.
> 
> this fic and the response to it both mean the world to me--it's the longest fic i've ever finished, and people actually seem to like it, which, woah, what the fuck. uh, so. yeah! that's cool. these past few days, i've gotten a few messages on tumblr about this fic, all of which were unbelievably kind and meant the world to me. if you've commented or left kudos or even just enjoyed this fic, you mean the world to me. holy shit. i knew as soon as i finished the finale that i couldn't live up to it by any narrative means, so i mostly tried to focus on, as is my wont, the girls and their relationships to each other. also, i don't know how griffin hacked into my notes app and stole my "krav barry and lup disaster reaper dream team" idea, but, like, good on him.
> 
> so. yeah. uh.
> 
> cool.
> 
> i'm not sure how to end this. i can probably give more meaningful, personal notes in my responses to comments, and junk, so, uh. comment, i guess?
> 
> (and also, if you're in the future, and you're reading this, feel free to comment, because future-me will probably still respond. she loves attention.)
> 
> uh. speaking of loving attention. i'll probs be posting more au fics on here--i have some canon divergence ideas about lup, and also a very self indulgent lost au planned out, so, maybe those'll happen. so. big if true, i guess.
> 
> i'm also other places On Line. i have a tumblr, yahooanswer.tumblr.com, where i'm always down to talk about taz or being gay or sitcoms or anything. i also have a podcast, chucktoddcast.libsyn.com, where i talk about the american news media in an entirely jokey way, which is mostly just me complaining about bad comedy. also, the cohost just started listening to taz so we talked a little bit about it this week, if you're into that.
> 
> i love you all, i love you all, i love you all. thank you so much for sticking around.

**Author's Note:**

> hit that mf like button.  
> (for real: leave comments!)  
> my tumblr is @yahooanswer  
> title is from the body electric by hurray for the riff raff. if this is your first time reading this fic, the title's more thematically appropriate than tonally appropriate. this fic ain't a bummer. i promise.


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